AiANY 
NVENTTON5 


RUDYARD 
KiPUNG 


»  •».*«««•«  «.«««»«  .  .«.».»«•  ••••«••• 


LIBRARY 
WILLIAM  F.  WAUGH. 


Cla  *s 


I  M 

"...m.... 


LIBRARY 


UNIVERSITY  Of 
CAUFOHNIA 

SAN  mteo 


presented  to  the 

LIBRARY 
UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  •  SAN  DIFGO 

by 
FRIENDS  OF  THE  LIBRARY 


Emma  Waugh  Gray 


donor 


W.  F.  Morrison 


MANY    INVENTIONS 


BY 


RUDYARD   KIPLING 


Lo,  this  only  have  I  found,  that  God  hath  made  man 
upright  ;  but  they  have  sought  out  many  inventions. 

Ecclesiastes  vii,  29 


FOURTH  EDITION 


NEW    YORK 

D.    APPLETON    AND    COMPANY 
1893 


COPYRIGHT,  1892, 
BY  D    APPLETON  AND  COMPANY. 


ELECTROTYPED  AND  PRINTED 
AT  THE  APPLETON  PRESS,  U.  8.  A. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

THE  DISTURBER  OF  TRAFFIC      .        .       .  •      .        .        .        .  1 

A  CONFERENCE  OF  THE  POWERS 26 

MY  LORD  THE  ELEPHANT 48 

ONE  VIEW  OF  THE  QUESTION 79 

•THE  FINEST  STORY  IN  THE  WORLD' 106 

His  PRIVATE  HONOUR 151 

A  MATTER  OF  FACT 181 

THE  LOST  LEGION 202 

IN  THE  RUKH 222 

'  BRUGGLESMITH  ' 265 

'  LOVE-O'- WOMEN  ' 289 

THE  RECORD  OF  BADALIA  HERODSFOOT 326 

JUDSON  AND  THE  EMPIRE 361 

THE  CHILDREN  OF  THE  ZODIAC 400 

ENVOY .  425 


TO  THE  TRUE  ROMANCE. 

Thy  face  is  far  from  this  our  war — 

Our  call  and  counter-cry. 
I  shall  not  find  Thee  quick  and  kind, 

Nor  know  Thee  till  I  die. 
Enough  for  me  in  dreams  to  see 

And  touch  Thy  garments'  hem — 
Thy  feet  have  trod  so  near  to  Ood 

I  may  not  follow  them. 

Through  wantonness  if  men  profess 

They  weary  of  Thy  parts, 
E'en  let  them  die  at  blasphemy 

And  perish  with  their  arts : 
But  we  that  love — but  we  that  prove 

Thine  excellence  august, 
While  we  adore,  discover  more 

Thee  perfect,  wise,  and  just. 

Since  spoken  word  Man's  spirit  stirred 

Beyond  his  belly-need, 
What  is  is  Thine  of  fair  design 

In  thought  and  craft  and  deed : 


VI  MANY  INVENTIONS. 

Each  stroke  aright  of  toil  and  fight 

That  was  and  that  shall  be, 
And  hope  too  high  wherefore  we  die, 

Has  birth  and  worth  in  Thee. 

Who  holds  by  Thee  hath  Heaven  in  fee 

To  gild  his  dross  thereby, 
And  knowledge  sure  that  he  endure 

A  child  until  he  die ; 
For  to  make  plain  that  man's  disdain 

Is  but  new  Beauty's  birth, 
For  to  possess  in  loneliness 

The  joy  of  all  the  earth. 

As  Thou  didst  teach  all  lovers  speech, 

And  Life  her  mystery, 
So  shalt  thou  rule  by  every  school 

Till  Love  and  Longing  die, 
Who  wast  or  yet  the  lights  were  met, 

A  whisper  in  the  Void, 
Who  shalt  be  sung  through  planets  young 

When  this  is  clean  destroyed. 

Beyond  the  bounds  our  staring  rounds 

Across  the  pressing  dark 
The  children  wise  of  outer  skies 

Look  hitherward  and  mark 
A  light  that  shifts,  a  glare  that  drifts, 

Rekindling  thus  and  thus, 
Not  all  forlorn,  for  Thou  hast  borne 

Strange  tales  to  them  of  us. 


TO   THE  TRUE  ROMANCE.  Vll 

Time  hath,  no  tide  but  must  abide 

The  servant  of  Thy  will — 
Tide  hath  no  time,  for  to  Thy  rhyme 

The  ranging  stars  stand  still : 
Regent  of  spheres  that  hold  our  fears, 

Our  hopes  invisible, 
Oh,  'twas  certes,  at  Thy  decrees 

We  fashioned  Heaven  and  Hell ! 

Pure  Wisdom  hath  no  certain  path 

That  lacks  Thy  morning-eyne ; 
And  captains  bold  by  Thee  controlled 

Most  like  to  Gods  design. 
Thou  art  the  Voice  to  kingly  boys 

To  lift  them  through  the  fight, 
And  Comfortress  of  Unsuccess 

To  give  the  Dead  good-night — 

A  veil  to  draw  twixt  God  His  law 

And  man's  infirmity, 
A  shadow  kind  to  dumb  and  blind 

The  shambles  where  we  die — 
A  sum  to  trick  th'  arithmetic, 

Too  base,  of  leaguing  odds, 
The  spur  of  Trust,  the  curb  of  Lust, 

Thou  handmaid  of  the  Gods ! 

O  Charity,  all  patiently 

Abiding  wrack  and  scaith ! 
O  Faith,  that  meets  ten  thousand  cheats, 

Yet  drops  no  jot  of  faith  ! 


Vlll  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

Devil  and  brute  Thou  dost  transmute 

To  higher,  lordlier  show, 
Who  art  in  sooth  that  utter  Truth 

The  careless  angels  know ! 

Thy  face  is  far  from  this  our  war — 

Our  call  and  counter-cry. 
I  may  not  find  Thee  breathed  and  kind, 

Nor  know  Thee  till  I  die. 

Yet  may  I  look  with  heart  unshook 

On  How  brought  home  or  missed, 
Yet  may  I  hear  with  equal  ear 

The  clarions  down  the  list — 
Yet  set  my  lance  above  mischance, 

And  ride  the  barriere, — 
Oh,  hit  or  miss,  how  little  'tis, 

My  Lady  is  not  there  ! 


MANY    INVENTIONS. 


THE  DISTURBER  OF  TRAFFIC. 

From  the  wheel  and  the  drift  of  Things 

Deliver  us,  good  Lord, 
And  we  will  meet  the  wrath  of  kings, 

The  faggot,  and  the  sword. 

Lay  not  Thy  toil  before  our  eyes, 

Nor  vex  us  with  Thy  wars, 
Lest  we  should  feel  the  straining  skies 

O'ertrod  by  trampling  stars* 

A  veil  'twixt  us  and  Thee,  dread  Lord, 

A  veil  'twixt  us  and  Thee : 
Lest  we  should  hear  too  clear,  too  clear, 

And  unto  madness  see !  Miriam  Cohen. 

THE  Brothers  of  the  Trinity  order  that  none  un- 
connected with  their  service  shall  be  found  in  or  on 
one  of  their  Lights  during  the  hours  of  darkness; 
but  their  servants  can  be  led  to  think  otherwise.  If 
you  are  fair-spoken  and  take  an  interest  in  their 
duties,  they  will  allow  you  to  sit  with  them  through 
.the  long  night  and  help  to  scare  the  ships  into  mid- 
channel. 

Of  the  English  south-coast  Lights,  that  of  St. 
Cecilia-under-the-Cliff  is  the  most  powerful,  for  it 
guards  a  very  foggy  coast.  When  the  sea-mist 


Copyright,  1891,  by  Houghton,  Mifflin  &  Co. 


2  MANY  INVENTIONS. 

veils  all,  St.  Cecilia  turns  a  hooded  head  to  the  sea 
and  sings  a  song  of  two  words  once  every  minute. 
From  the  land  that  song  resembles  the  bellowing  of 
a  brazen  bull ;  but  off-shore  they  understand,  and 
the  steamers  grunt  gratefully  in  answer. 

Fenwick,  who  was  on  duty  one  night,  lent  me  a 
pair  of  black  glass  spectacles,  without  which  no 
man  can  look  at  the  Light  unblinded,  and  busied 
himself  in  last  touches  to  the  lenses  before  twilight 
fell.  The  width  of  the  English  Channel  beneath  us, 
lay  as  smooth  and  as  many-coloured  as  the  inside  of 
an  oyster  shell.  A  little  Sunderland  cargo-boat  had 
made  her  signal  to  Lloyd's  Agency,  half  a  mile  up 
the  coast,  and  was  lumbering  down  to  the  sunset ; 
her  wake  lying  white  behind  her.  One  star  came 
out  over  the  cliffs,  the  waters  turned  lead-colour, 
and  St.  Cecilia's  Light  shot  out  across  the  sea  in 
eight  long  pencils  that  wheeled  slowly  from  right 
to  left,  melted  into  one  beam  of  solid  light  laid  down 
directly  in  front  of  the  tower,  dissolved  again  into 
eight,  and  passed  away.  The  light-frame  of  the 
thousand  lenses  circled  on  its  rollers,  and  the  com- 
pressed-air engine  that  drove  it  hummed  like  a  blue- 
bottle under  a  glass.  The  hand  of  the  indicator  on 
the  wall  pulsed  from  mark  to  mark.  Eight  pulse- 
beats  timed  one  half-revolution  of  the  Light ;  neither 
more  nor  less. 

Fenwick  checked  the  first  few  revolutions  care- 
fully ;  he  opened  the  engine's  feed-pipe  a  trifle, 


THE   DISTUKBEK   OF  TEAFFIC.  3 

looked  at  the  racing  governor,  and  again  at  the 
indicator,  and  said :  '  She'll  do  for  the  next  few 
hours.  We've  just  sent  our  regular  engine  to 
London,  and  this  spare  one's  not  by  any  manner  so 
accurate.' 

'  And  what  would  happen  if  the  compressed  air 
gave  out  ? '  I  asked,  from  curiosity. 

'  We'd  have  to  turn  the  flash  by  hand,  keeping  an 
eye  on  the  indicator.  There's  a  regular  crank  for 
that.  But  it  hasn't  happened  yet.  We'll  need  all 
our  compressed  air  to-night.' 

*  Why  ? '  said  I.  I  had  been  watching  him  for 
not  more  than  a  minute. 

'  Look,'  he  answered,  and  I  saw  that  the  dead  sea- 
mist  had  risen  out  of  the  lifeless  sea  and  wrapped  us 
while  my  back  had  been  turned.  The  pencils  of  the 
Light  marched  staggeringly  across  tilted  floors  of 
white  cloud.  From  the  balcony  round  the  light- 
room  the  white  walls  of  the  lighthouse  ran  down  into 
swirling,  smoking  space.  The  noise  of  the  tide  com- 
ing in  very  lazily  over  the  rocks  was  choked  down 
to  a  thick  drawl. 

'  That's  the  way  our  sea-fogs  come/  said  Fen  wick, 
with  an  air  of  ownership.  '  Hark,  now,  to  that  little 
fool  calling  out  'fore  he's  hurt.' 

Something  in  the  mist  was  bleating  like  an  indig- 
nant calf ;  it  might  have  been  half  a  mile  or  half  a 
hundred  miles  away. 

'  Does  he  suppose  we've  gone  to  bed  ? '  continued 


4  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

Fen  wick.  '  You'll  hear  us  talk  to  him  in  a  minute. 
He  knows  puffickly  where  he  is,  and  he's  carrying  on 
to  be  told  like  if  he  was  insured/ 

'Who  is  "he"?' 

'  That  Sunderland  boat,  o'  course.     Ah ! ' 

I  could  hear  a  steam-engine  hiss  down  below  in 
the  mist  where  the  dynamos  that  fed  the  Light  were 
clacking  together.  Then  there  came  a  roar  that  split 
the  fog  and  shook  the  lighthouse. 

'  Gn-toot ! '  blared  the  foghorn  of  St.  Cecilia.  The 
bleating  ceased. 

'  Little  fool ! '  Fen  wick  repeated.  Then,  listening : 
'  Blest  if  that  aren't  another  of  them !  Well,  well, 
they  always  say  that  a  fog  do  draw  the  ships  of  the 
sea  together.  They'll  be  calling  all  night,  and  so'll 
the  siren.  We're  expecting  some  tea  ships  up-Chan- 
nel.  ...  If  you  put  my  coat  on  that  chair,  you'll  feel 
more  so  fash,  sir/ 

It  is  no  pleasant  thing  to  thrust  your  company 
upon  a  man  for  the  night.  I  looked  at  Fen  wick,  and 
Fenwick  looked  at  me;  each  gauging  the  other's 
capacities  for  boring  and  being  bored.  Fenwick  was 
an  old,  clean-shaven,  gray-haired  man  who  had  fol- 
lowed the  sea  for  thirty  years,  and  knew  nothing  of 
the  land  except  the  lighthouse  iu  which  he  served. 
He  fenced  cautiously  to  find  out  the  little  that  I 
knew,  and  talked  down  to  my  level  till  it  came  out 
that  I  had  met  a  captain  in  the  merchant  service 
who  had  once  commanded  a  ship  in  which  Fenwick's 


THE  DISTUKBER  OF  TRAFFIC.  5 

son  had  served ;  and  further,  that  I  had  seen  some 
places  that  Fenwick  had  touched  at.  He  began  with 
a  dissertation  on  pilotage  in  the  Hugli.  I  had  been 
privileged  to  know  a  Hugli  pilot  intimately.  Fen- 
wick  had  only  seen  the  imposing  and  masterful 
breed  from  a  ship's  chains,  and  his  intercourse  had 
been  cut  down  to  *  Quarter  less  five/  and  remarks  of 
a  strictly  business-like  nature.  Hereupon  he  ceased 
to  talk  down  to  me,  and  became  so  amazingly  tech- 
nical that  I  was  forced  to  beg  him  to  explain  every 
other  sentence.  This  set  him  fully  at  his  ease ;  and 
then  we  spoke  as  men  together,  each  too  interested 
to  think  of  anything  except  the  subject  in  hand. 
And  that  subject  was  wrecks,  and  voyages,  and  old- 
time  trading,  and  ships  cast  away  in  desolate  seas, 
steamers  we  both  had  known,  their  merits  and  de- 
merits, lading,  Lloyd's,  and,  above  all,  Lights.  The 
talk  always  came  back  to  Lights :  Lights  of  the 
Channel ;  Lights  on  forgotten  islands,  and  men  for- 
gotten on  them  ;  Light-ships — two  months'  duty  and 
one  month's  leave — tossing  on  kinked  cables  in  ever- 
troubled  tideways ;  and  Lights  that  men  had  seen 
where  never  lighthouse  was  marked  on  the  charts. 

Omitting  all  those  stories,  and  omitting  also  the 
wonderful  ways  by  which  he  arrived  at  them,  I  tell 
here,  from  Fenwick's  mouth,  one  that  was  not  the 
least  amazing.  It  was  delivered  in  pieces  between 
the  roller-skate  rattle  of  the  revolving  lenses,  the 
bellowing  of  the  fog-horn  below,  the  answering  calls 


6  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

from  the  sea,  and  the  sharp  tap  of  reckless  night- 
birds  that  flung  themselves  at  the  glasses.  It  con- 
cerned a  man  called  Dowse,  once  an  intimate  friend 
of  Fenwick,  now  a  waterman  at  Portsmouth,  believ- 
ing that  the  guilt  of  blood  is  on  his  head,  and  find- 
ing no  rest  either  at  Portsmouth  or  Gosport  Hard. 

.  .  .  '  And  if  anybody  was  to  come  to  you  and 
say,  "  I  know  the  Javva  currents,"  don't  you  listen 
to  him;  for  those  currents  is  never  yet  known  to 
mortal  man.  Sometimes  they're  here,  sometimes 
they're  there,  but  they  never  runs  less  than  five 
knots  an  hour  through  and  among  those  islands  of 
the  Eastern  Archipelagus.  There's  reverse  currents 
in  the  Gulf  of  Boni — and  that's  up  north  in  Celebes 
— that  no  man  can  explain ;  and  through  all  those 
Javva  passages  from  the  Bali  Narrows,  Dutch  Gut, 
and  Ombay,  which  I  take  it  is  the  safest,  they  chop 
and  they  change,  and  they  banks  the  tides  fust  on 
one  shore  and  then  on  another,  till  your  ship's  tore 
in  two.  I've  come  through  the  Bali  Narrows,  stern 
first,  in  the  heart  o'  the  south-east  monsoon,  with  a 
sou'-sou'-west  wind  blowing  atop  of  the  northerly 
flood,  and  our  skipper  said  he  wouldn't  do  it  again, 
not  for  all  Jamrach's.  You've  heard  o'  Jamrach's, 
sir?' 

'  Yes ;  and  was  Dowse  stationed  in  the  Bali  Nar- 
rows ? '  I  said. 

'No,  he  was  not  at  Bali,  but  much  more  east  o' 


THE  DISTURBER   OF  TEAFFIC.  7 

them  passages,  and  that's  Flores  Strait,  at  the  east 
end  o'  Flores.  It's  all  on  the  way  south  to  Australia 
when  you're  running  through  that  Eastern  Archi- 
pelagus.  Sometimes  you  go  through  Bali  Narrows 
if  you're  full-powered,  and  sometimes  through  Flores 
Strait,  so  as  to  stand  south  at  once,  and  fetch  round 
Timor,  keeping  well  clear  o'  the  Sahul  Bank.  Else- 
ways,  if  you  aren't  full-powered,  why  it  stands  to 
reason  you  go  round  by  the  Ombay  Passage,  keeping 
careful  to  the  north  side.  You  understand  that,  sir?' 

I  was  not  full-powered,  and  judged  it  safer  to  keep 
to  the  north  side — of  Silence. 

*  And  on  Flores  Strait,  in  the  fairway  between 
Adonare  Island  and  the  mainland,  they  put  Dowse 
in  charge  of  a  screw-pile  Light  called  the  Wurlee 
Light.  It's  less  than  a  mile  across  the  head  of 
Flores  Strait.  Then  it  opens  out  to  ten  or  twelve 
mile  for  Solor  Strait,  and  then  it  narrows  again  to 
a  three-mile  gut,  with  a  topplin'  flamin'  volcano  by 
it.  That's  old  Loby  Toby  by  Loby  Toby  Strait,  and 
if  you  keep  his  Light  and  the  Wurlee  Light  in  a  line 
you  won't  take  much  harm,  not  on  the  darkest  night. 
That's  what  Dowse  told  me,  and  I  can  well  believe 
him,  knowing  these  seas  myself ;  but  you  must  ever 
be  mindful  of  the  currents.  And  there  they  put 
Dowse,  since  he  was  the  only  man  that  that  Dutch 
government  which  owns  Flores  could  find  that 
would  go  to  Wurlee  and  tend  a  fixed  Light. 
Mostly  they  uses  Dutch  and  Italians;  Englishmen 


8  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

being  said  to  drink  when  alone.  I  never  could 
rightly  find  out  what  made  Dowse  accept  of  that 
position,  but  accept  he  did,  and  used  to  sit  for  to 
watch  the  tigers  come  out  of  the  forests  to  hunt 
for  crabs  and  such  like  round  about  the  lighthouse 
at  low  tide.  The  water  was  always  warm  in  those 
parts,  as  I  know  well,  and  uncommon  sticky,  and  it 
ran  with  the  tides  as  thick  and  smooth  as  hogwash 
in  a  trough.  There  was  another  man  along  with 
Dowse  in  the  Light,  but  he  wasn't  rightly  a  man. 
He  was  a  Kling.  No,  nor  yet  a  Kling  he  wasn't,  but 
his  skin  was  in  little  flakes  and  cracks  all  over,  from 
living  so  much  in  the  salt  water  as  was  his  usual 
custom.  His  hands  was  all  webby-foot,  too.  He 
was  called,  I  remember  Dowse  saying  now,  an 
Orange-Lord,  on  account  of  his  habits.  You've 
heard  of  an  Orange-Lord,  sir  ? ' 

'  Orang-Laut  ? '  I  suggested. 

*  That's  the  name,'  said  Fenwick,  smacking  his 
knee.  'An  Orang-Laut,  of  course,  and  his  name 
was  Challong ;  what  they  call  a  sea-gypsy.  Dowse 
told  me  that  that  man,  long  hair  and  all,  would  go 
swimming  up  and  down  the  straits  just  for  some- 
thing to  do ;  running  down  on  one  tide  and  back 
again  with  the  other,  swimming  side-stroke,  and  the 
tides  going  tremenjus  strong.  Elseways  he'd  be 
skipping  about  the  beach  along  with  the  tigers  at 
low  tide,  for  he  was  most  part  a  beast ;  or  he'd  sit 
in  a  little  boat  praying  to  old  Loby  Toby  of  an 


THE  DISTUEBEE  OF  TEAFFIC.  9 

evening  when  the  volcano  was  spitting  red  at  the 
south  end  of  the  strait.  Dowse  told  me  that  he 
wasn't  a  companionable  man,  like  you  and  me 
might  have  been  to  Dowse. 

'Now  I  can  never  rightly  come  at  what  it  was 
that  began  to  ail  Dowse  after  he  had  been  there  a 
year  or  something  less.  He  was  saving  of  all  his 
pay  and  tending  to  his  Light,  and  now  and  again 
he'd  have  a  fight  with  Challong  and  tip  him  off  the 
Light  into  the  sea.  Then,  he  told  me,  his  head  began 
to  feel  streaky  from  looking  at  the  tide  so  long.  He 
said  there  was  long  streaks  of  white  running  inside 
it ;  like  wall  paper  that  hadn't  been  properly  pasted 
up,  he  said.  The  streaks,  they  would  run  with  the 
tides,  north  and  south,  twice  a  day,  accordin'  to  them 
currents,  and  he'd  lie  down  on  the  planking — it  was 
a  screw-pile  Light — with  his  eye  to  a  crack  and 
watch  the  water  streaking  through  the  piles  just  so 
quiet  as  hogwash.  He  said  the  only  comfort  he  got 
was  at  slack  water.  Then  the  streaks  in  his  head 
went  round  and  round  like  a  sampan  in  a  tide-rip ; 
but  that  was  heaven,  he  said,  to  the  other  kind  of 
streaks, — the  straight  ones  that  looked  like  arrows 
on  a  wind-chart,  but  much  more  regular,  and  that 
was  the  trouble  of  it.  No  more  he  couldn't  ever 
keep  his  eyes  off  the  tides  that  ran  up  and  down  so 
strong,  but  as  soon  as  ever  he  looked  at  the  high 
hills  standing  all  along  Flores  Strait  for  rest  and 
comfort  his  eyes  would  be  pulled  down  like  to  the 


10  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

nesty  streaky  water ;  and  when  they  once  got  there 
he  couldn't  pull  them  away  again  till  the  tide 
changed.  He  told  me  all  this  himself,  speaking  just 
as  though  he  was  talking  of  somebody  else.' 

'  Where  did  you  meet  him  ? '  I  asked. 

'In  Portsmouth  harbour,  a-cleaning  the  brasses 
of  a  Ryde  boat,  but  I'd  known  him  off  and  on 
through  following  the  sea  for  many  years.  Yes, 
he  spoke  about  himself  very  curious,  and  all  as  if 
he  was  in  the  next  room  laying  there  dead.  Those 
streaks,  they  preyed  upon  his  intellecks,  he  said; 
and  he  made  up  his  mind,  every  time  that  the 
Dutch  gunboat  that  attends  to  the  Lights  in  those 
parts  come  along,  that  he'd  ask  to  be  took  off.  But 
as  soon  as  she  did  come  something  went  click  in  his 
throat,  and  he  was  so  took  up  with  watching  her 
masts,  because  they  ran  longways,  in  the  contrary 
direction  to  his  streaks,  that  he  could  never  say  a 
word  until  she  was  gone  away  and  her  masts  was 
under  sea  again.  Then,  he  said,  he'd  cry  by  the 
hour;  and  Challong  swum  round  and  round  the 
Light,  laughin'  at  him  and  splashin'  water  with  his 
webby-foot  hands.  At  last  ho  took  it  into  his  pore 
sick  head  that  the  ships,  and  particularly  the  steam- 
ers that  came  by, — there  wasn't  many  of  them, — 
made  the  streaks,  instead  of  the  tides  as  was  natural. 
He  used  to  sit,  he  told  me,  cursing  every  boat  that 
come  along, — sometimes  a  junk,  sometimes  a  Dutcli 
brig,  and  now  and  again  a  steamer  rounding  Flores 


THE  DISTURBER  OF  TRAFFIC.  11 

Head  and  poking  about  in  the  mouth  of  the  strait. 
Or  there'd  come  a  boat  from  Australia  running  north 
past  old  Loby  Toby  hunting  for  a  fair  current,  but 
never  throwing  out  any  papers  that  Challong  might 
pick  up  for  Dowse  to  read.  Generally  speaking,  the 
steamers  kept  more  westerly,  but  now  and  again 
they  came  looking  for  Timor  and  the  west  coast  of 
Australia.  Dowse  used  to  shout  to  them  to  go  round 
by  the  Ombay  Passage,  and  not  to  come  streaking 
past  him,  making  the  water  all  streaky,  but  it  wasn't 
likely  they'd  hear.  He  says  to  himself  after  a  month, 
"  I'll  give  them  one  more  chance,"  he  says.  "  If  the 
next  boat  don't  attend  to  my  just  representations," — 
he  says  he  remembers  using  those  very  words  to 
Challong, — "  I'll  stop  the  fairway." 

'  The  next  boat  was  a  Two-streak  cargo-boat 
very  anxious  to  make  her  northing.  She  waddled 
through  under  old  Loby  Toby  at  the  south  end  of 
the  strait,  and  she  passed  within  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  of  the  Wurlee  Light  at  the  north  end,  in 
seventeen  fathom  o'  water,  the  tide  against  her. 
Dowse  took  the  trouble  to  come  out  with  Challong 
in  a  little  prow  that  they  had, — all  bamboos  and 
leakage, — and  he  lay  in  the  fairway  waving  a  palm 
branch,  and,  so  he  told  me,  wondering  why  and  what 
for  he  was  making  this  fool  of  himself.  Up  come 
the  Two-streak  boat,  and  Dowse  shouts :  "  Don't  you 
come  this  way  again,  making  my  head  all  streaky ! 
Go  round  by  Ombay,  and  leave  me  alone."  Some 


12  MANY  INVENTIONS. 

one  looks  over  the  port  bulwarks  and  shies  a  banana 
at  Dowse,  and  that's  all.  Dowse  sits  down  in  the 
bottom  of  the  boat  and  cries  fit  to  break  his  heart. 
Then  he  says,  "  Challong,  what  arn  I  a-crying  for  ?  " 
and  they  fetch  up  by  the  Wurlee  Light  on  the  half 
flood. 

' "  Challong,"  he  says,  "  there's  too  much  traffic 
here,  and  that's  why  the  water's  so  streaky  as  it  is. 
It's  the  junks  and  the  brigs  and  the  steamers  that 
do  it,"  he  says ;  and  all  the  time  he  was  speaking 
he  was  thinking,  "  Lord,  Lord,  what  a  crazy  fool  I 
am ! "  Challong  said  nothing,  because  he  couldn't 
speak  a  word  of  English  except  say  "  dam,"  and  he 
said  that  where  you  or  me  would  say  "  yes."  Dowse 
lay  down  on  the  planking  of  the  Light  with  his  eye 
to  the  crack,  and  he  saw  the  muddy  water  streaking 
below,  and  he  never  said  a  word  till  slack  water,  be- 
cause the  streaks  kept  him  tongue-tied  at  such  times. 
At  slack  water  he  says, "  Challong,  we  must  buoy 
this  fairway  for  wrecks,"  and  he  holds  up  his  hands 
several  times,  showing  that  dozens  of  wrecks  had 
come  about  in  the  fairway  ;  and  Challong  says, 
"  Dam." 

'  That  very  afternoon  he  and  Challong  goes  to 
Wurlee,  the  village  in  the  woods  that  the  Light  was 
named  after,  and  buys  canes, — stacks  and  stacks  of 
canes,  and  coir  rope  thick  and  fine,  all  sorts, — and 
they  sets  to  work  making  square  floats  by  lashing  of 
the  canes  together.  Dowse  said  he  took  longer  over 


THE  DISTURBER  OF  TRAFFIC.  13 

those  floats  than  might  have  been  needed,  because 
he  rejoiced  in  the  corners,  they  being  square,  and 
the  streaks  in  his  head  all  running  longways.  He 
lashed  the  canes  together,  criss-cross  and  thwart- 
ways, — any  way  but  longways, — and  they  made  up 
twelve-foot-square  floats,  like  rafts.  Then  he 
stepped  a  twelve-foot  bamboo  or  a  bundle  of 
canes  in  the  centre,  and  to  the  head  of  that  he 
lashed  a  big  six-foot  W  letter,  all  made  of  canes, 
and  painted  the  float  dark  green  and  the  W  white, 
as  a  wreck-buoy  should  be  painted.  Between  them 
two  they  makes  a  round  dozen  of  these  new  kind  of 
wreck-buoys,  and  it  was  a  two  months'  job.  There 
was  no  big  traffic,  owing  to  it  being  on  the  turn  of 
the  monsoon,  but  what  there  was,  Dowse  cursed  at, 
and  the  streaks  in  his  head,  they  ran  with  the  tides, 
as  usual. 

'  Day  after  day,  so  soon  as  a  buoy  was  ready, 
Challoug  would  take  it  out,  with  a  big  rock  that 
half  sunk  the  prow  and  a  bamboo  grapnel,  and  drop 
it  dead  in  the  fairway.  He  did  this  day  or  night, 
and  Dowse  could  see  him  of  a  clear  night,  when 
the  sea  brinaed,  climbing  about  the  buoys  with  the 
sea-fire  dripping  off  him.  They  was  all  put  into 
place,  twelve  of  them,  in  seventeen- fathom  water ; 
not  in  a  straight  line,  on  account  of  a  well-known 
shoal  there,  but  slantways,  and  two,  one  behind  the 
other,  mostly  in  the  centre  of  the  fairway.  You 
must  keep  the  centre  of  those  Javva  currents,  for 


14  MANY  INVENTIONS. 

currents  at  the  side  is  different,  and  in  narrow 
water,  before  you  can  turn  a  spoke,  you  get  your 
nose  took  round  and  rubbed  upon  the  rocks  and 
the  woods.  Dowse  knew  that  just  as  well  as  any 
skipper.  Likeways  he  knew  that  no  skipper  daren't 
run  through  uncharted  wrecks  in  a  six-knot  cur- 
rent. He  told  me  he  used  to  lie  outside  the  Light 
watching  his  buoys  ducking  and  dipping  so  friendly 
with  the  tide;  and  the  motion  was  comforting  to 
him  on  account  of  its  being  different  from  the  run 
of  the  streaks  in  his  head. 

'  Three  weeks  after  he'd  done  his  business  up 
comes  a  steamer  through  Loby  Toby  Straits,  think- 
ing she'd  run  into  Flores  Sea  before  night.  He  saw 
her  slow  down ;  then  she  backed.  Then  one  man 
and  another  came  up  on  the  bridge,  and  he  could 
see  there  was  a  regular  powwow,  and  the  flood  was 
driving  her  right  on  to  Dowse's  wreck-buoys.  After 
that  she  spun  round  and  went  back  south,  and 
Dowse  nearly  killed  himself  with  laughing.  But  a 
few  weeks  after  that  a  couple  of  junks  came  shoul- 
dering through  from  the  north,  arm  in  arm,  like 
junks  go.  It  takes  a  good  deal  to  make  a  Chinaman 
understand  danger.  They  junks  set  well  in  the  cur- 
rent, and  went  down  the  fairway,  right  among  the 
buoys,  ton  knots  an  hour,  blowing  horns  and  bang- 
ing tin  pots  all  the  time.  That  made  Dowse  very 
angry ;  he  having  taken  so  much  trouble  to  stop  the 
fairway.  No  boats  run  Flores  Straits  by  night,  but 


THE  DISTUEBEE  OF  TEAFFIC.  15 

it  seemed  to  Dowse  that  if  junks  'd  do  that  in  the 
day,  the  Lord  knew  but  what  a  steamer  might  trip 
over  his  buoys  at  night;  and  he  sent  Challong  to 
run  a  coir  rope  between  three  of  the  buoys  in  the 
middle  of  the  fairway,  and  he  fixed  naked  lights  of 
coir  steeped  in  oil  to  that  rope.  The  tides  was  the 
only  things  that  moved  in  those  seas,  for  the  airs 
was  dead  still  till  they  began  to  blow,  and  then  they 
would  blow  your  hair  off.  Challong  tended  those 
lights  every  night  after  the  junks  had  been  so  impi- 
dent, — four  lights  in  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  hung 
up  in  iron  skillets  on  the  rope  ;  and  when  they  was 
alight, — and  coir  burns  well,  most  like  a  lamp  wick, 
— the  fairway  seemed  more  madder  than  anything 
else  in  the  world.  Fust  there  was  the  Wurlee  Light, 
then  these  four  queer  lights,  that  couldn't  be  riding- 
lights,  almost  flush  with  the  water,  and  behind  them, 
twenty  mile  off,  but  the  biggest  light  of  all,  there 
was  the  red  top  of  old  Loby  Toby  volcano.  Dowse 
told  me  that  he  used  to  go  out  in  the  prow  and  look 
at  his  handiwork,  and  it  made  him  scared,  being  like 
no  lights  that  ever  was  fixed. 

'  By  and  by  some  more  steamers  came  along, 
snorting  and  snifting  at  the  buoys,  but  never  going 
through,  and  Dowse  says  to  himself :  "  Thank  good- 
ness I've  taught  them  not  to  come  streaking  through 
my  water.  Ombay  Passage  is  good  enough  for  them 
and  the  like  of  them."  But  he  didn't  remember  how 
quick  that  sort  of  news  spreads  among  the  shipping. 


16  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

Every  steamer  that  fetched  up  by  those  buoys  told 
another  steamer  and  all  the  port  officers  concerned 
in  those  seas  that  there  was  something  wrong  with 
Flores  Straits  that  hadn't  been  charted  yet.  It  was 
block-buoyed  for  weeks  in  the  fairway,  they  said, 
and  no  sort  of  passage  to  use.  Well,  the  Dutch,  of 
course  they  didn't  know  anything  about  it.  They 
thought  our  Admiralty  Survey  had  been  there,  and 
they  thought  it  very  queer  but  neighbourly.  You 
understand  us  English  are  always  looking  up  marks 
and  lighting  sea-ways  all  the  world  over,  never  ask- 
ing with  your  leave  or  by  your  leave,  seeing  that 
the  sea  concerns  us  more  than  any  one  else.  So  the 
news  went  to  and  back  from  Flores  to  Bali,  and 
Bali  to  Probolingo,  where  the  railway  is  that  runs 
to  Batavia.  All  through  the  Javva  seas  everybody 
got  the  word  to  keep  clear  o'  Flores  Straits,  and 
Dowso,  he  was  left  alone  except  for  such  steamers 
and  small  craft  as  didn't  know.  They'd  come  up 
and  look  at  the  straits  like  a  bull  over  a  gate,  but 
those  nodding  wreck-buoys  scared  them  away.  By 
and  by  the  Admiralty  Survey  ship— the  Britomarte 
I  think  she  was— lay  in  Macassar  Roads  off  Fort 
Rotterdam,  alongside  of  the  Amboina,  a  dirty  little 
Dutch  gunboat  that  used  to  clean  there ;  and  the 
Dutch  captain  says  to  our  captain, "  What's  wrong 
with  Flores  Straits  ?  "  he  says. 

"Blowed  if  I  know,"  says  our  captain,  who'd 
just  come  up  from  the  Angelica  Shoal. 


THE  DISTURBER  OF  TRAFFIC.  17 

' "  Tlien  why  did  you  go  and  buoy  it  ?  "  says  the 
Dutchman. 

* "  Blowed  if  I  have,"  says  our  captain.  "  That's 
your  lookout." 

' "  Buoyed  it  is,"  said  the  Dutch  captain,  "  accord- 
ing to  what  they  tell  me  ;  and  a  whole  fleet  of 
wreck-buoys,  too." 

' "  Gummy !  "  says  our  captain.  "  It's  a  dorg's 
life  at  sea,  any  way.  I  must  have  a  look  at  this. 
You  come  along  after  me  as  soon  as  you  can ; "  and 
down  he  skimmed  that  very  night,  round  the  heel  of 
Celebes,  three  days'  steam  to  Flores  Head,  and  he 
met  a  Two-streak  liner,  very  angry,  backing  out  of 
the  head  of  the  strait ;  and  the  merchant  captain 
j'ave  our  Survey  ship  something  of  his  mind  for 
leaving  wrecks  uncharted  in  those  narrow  waters 
and  wasting  his  company's  coal. 

' "  It's  no  fault  o'  mine,"  says  our  captain. 

' "  I  don't  care  whose  fault  it  is,"  says  the  mer- 
chant captain,  who  had  come  aboard  to  speak  to 
him  just  at  dusk.  "The  fairway's  choked  with 
wreck  enough  to  knock  a  hole  through  a  dock-gate. 
I  saw  their  big  ugly  masts  sticking  up  just  under 
my  forefoot.  Lord  ha'  mercy  on  us ! "  he  says,  spin- 
ning round.  "  The  place  is  like  Regent  Street  of  a 
hot  summer  night." 

'And  so  it  was.  They  two  looked  at  Flores 
Straits,  and  they  saw  lights  one  after  the  other 
stringing  across  the  fairway.  Dowse,  he  had  seen  the 


18  MANY  INVENTIONS. 

steamers  hanging  there  before  dark,  and  he  said  to 
Challong :  "  We'll  give  'em  something  to  remember. 
Get  all  the  skillets  and  iron  pots  you  can  and  hang 
them  up  alongside  o'  the  regular  four  lights.  We 
must  teach  'em  to  go  round  by  the  Ombay  Passage, 
or  they'll  be  streaking  up  our  water  again ! "  Chal- 
long took  a  header  off  the  lighthouse,  got  aboard  the 
little  leaking  prow,  with  his  coir  soaked  in  oil  and 
all  the  skillets  he  could  muster,  and  he  began  to 
show  his  lights,  four  regulation  ones  and  half  a 
dozen  new  lights  hung  on  that  rope  which  was  a 
little  above  the  water.  Then  he  went  to  all  the 
spare  buoys  with  all  his  spare  coir,  and  hung  a 
skillet-flare  on  every  pole  that  he  could  get  at, — 
about  seven  poles.  So  you  see,  taking  one  with 
another,  there  was  the  Wurlee  Light,  four  lights  on 
the  rope  between  the  three  centre  fairway  wreck- 
buoys  that  was  hung  out  as  a  usual  custom,  six  or 
eight  extry  ones  that  Challong  had  hung  up  on  the 
same  rope,  and  seven  dancing  flares  that  belonged 
to  seven  wreck-buoys, — eighteen  or  twenty  lights  in 
all  crowded  into  a  mile  of  seventeen-fathom  water, 
where  no  tide  'd  ever  let  a  wreck  rest  for  three 
weeks,  let  alone  ten  or  twelve  wrecks,  as  the  flares 
showed. 

*  The  Admiralty  captain,  he  saw  the  lights  come 
out  one  after  another,  same  as  the  merchant  skipper 
did  who  was  standing  at  his  side,  and  he  said  : — 

' "  There's  been  an  international  catastrophe  here 


THE  DISTURBER  OF  TEAFFIC.  19 

or  elseways,"  and  then  lie  whistled.  "  I'm  going  to 
stand  on  and  off  all  night  till  the  Dutchman  comes," 
he  says. 

' "  I'm  off,"  says  the  merchant  skipper.  "  My 
owners  don't  wish  for  me  to  watch  illuminations. 
That  strait's  choked  with  wreck,  and  I  shouldn't 
wonder  if  a  typhoon  hadn't  driven  half  the  junks 
o'  China  there."  With  that  he  went  away  ;  but  the 
Survey  ship,  she  stayed  all  night  at  the  head  o* 
Flores  Strait,  and  the  men  admired  the  lights  till 
the  lights  was  burning  out,  and  then  they  admired 
more  than  ever. 

'  A  little  bit  before  morning  the  Dutch  gunboat 
come  flustering  up,  and  the  two  ships  stood  together 
watching  the  lights  burn  out  and  out,  till  there  was 
nothing  left  'cept  Flores  Straits,  all  green  and  wet, 
and  a  dozen  wreck-buoys,  and  Wurlee  Light. 

'  Dowse  had  slept  very  quiet  that  night,  and  got 
rid  of  his  streaks  by  means  of  thinking  of  the  angry 
steamers  outside.  Challong  was  busy,  and  didn't 
come  back  to  his  bunk  till  late.  In  the  very  early 
morning  Dowse  looked  out  to  sea,  being,  as  he  said, 
in  torment,  and  saw  all  the  navies  of  the  world  rid- 
ing outside  Flores  Straits  fairway  in  a  half -moon, 
seven  miles  from  wing  to  wing,  most  wonderful  to 
behold.  Those  were  the  words  he  used  to  me  time 
and  again  in  telling  the  tale. 

*  Then,  he  says,  he  heard  a  gun  fired  with  a  most 
tremenjus  explosion,  and  all  them  great  navies  crum- 


20  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

bled  to  little  pieces  of  clouds,  and  there  was  only  two 
ships  remaining,  and  a  man-o'- war's  boat  rowing  to 
the  Light,  with  the  oars  going  sideways  instead  o' 
longways  as  the  morning  tides,  ebb  or  flow,  would 
continually  run. 

* "  What  the  devil's  wrong  with  this  strait  ?  "  says 
a  man  in  the  boat  as  soon  as  they  was  in  hailing  dis- 
tance. "  Has  the  whole  English  Navy  sunk  here,  or 
what  ? " 

' "  There's  nothing  wrong,"  says  Dowse,  sitting  on 
the  platform  outside  the  Light,  and  keeping  one  eye 
very  watchful  on  the  streakiness  of  the  tide,  which 
he  always  hated,  'specially  in  the  morning.  "  You 
leave  me  alone  and  I'll  leave  you  alone.  Go  round 
by  the  Ombay  Passage,  and  don't  cut  up  my  water. 
You're  making  it  streaky."  All  the  time  he  was  say- 
ing that  he  kept  on  thinking  to  himself, "  Now  that's 
foolishness, — now  that's  nothing  but  foolishness ; " 
and  all  the  time  he  was  holding  tight  to  the  edge  of 
the  platform  in  case  the  streakiness  of  "the  tide 
should  carry  him  away. 

*  Somebody  answers  from  the  boat,  very  soft  and 
quiet,  "  We're  going  round  by  Ombay  in  a  minute,  if 
you'll  just  come  and  speak  to  our  captain  and  give 
him  his  bearings." 

*  Dowse,  he  felt  very  highly  flattered,  and  he 
slipped  into  the  boat,  not  paying  any  attention  to 
Challong.     But  Cnallong  swum  along  to  the  ship 
after  the  boat.    When  Dowse  was  in  the  boat,  he 


THE  DISTURBEE   OF  TEAFFIC.  21 

found,  so  he  says,  he  couldn't  speak  to  the  sailors 
'cept  to  call  them  "white  mice  with  chains  about 
their  neck,"  and  Lord  knows  he  hadn't  seen  or 
thought  o'  white  mice  since  he  was  a  little  bit  of  a 
boy  and  kept  'em  in  his  handkerchief.  So  he  kept 
himself  quiet,  and  so  they  come  to  the  Survey  ship ; 
and  the  man  in  the  boat  hails  the  quarter-deck  with 
something  that  Dowse  could  not  rightly  understand, 
but  there  was  one  word  he  spelt  out  again  and  again, 
— m-a-d,  mad, — and  he  heard  some  one  behind  him 
saying  it  backwards.  So  he  had  two  words, — m-a-d, 
mad,  d-a-m,  dam ;  and  he  put  those  two  words  to- 
gether as  he  come  on  the  quarter-deck,  and  he  says 
to  the  captain  very  slowly,  "  I  be  damned  if  I  am 
mad,"  but  all  the  time  his  eye  was  held  like  by  the 
coils  of  rope  on  the  belaying  pins,  and  he  followed 
those  ropes  up  and  up  with  his  eye  till  he  was  quite 
lost  and  comfortable  among  the  rigging,  which  ran 
criss-cross,  and  slopeways,  and  up  and  down,  and 
any  way  but  straight  along  under  his  feet  north  and 
south.  The  deck-seams,  they  ran  that  way,  and 
Dowse  daresn't  look  at  them.  They  was  the  same 
as  the  streaks  of  the  water  under  the  planking  of 
the  lighthouse. 

'  Then  he  heard  the  captain  talking  to  him  very 
kindly,  and  for  the  life  of  him  he  couldn't  tell  why ; 
and  what  he  wanted  to  tell  the  captain  was  that 
Flores  Strait  was  too  streaky,  like  bacon,  and  the 
steamers  only  made  it  worse;  but  all  he  could  do 


22  MANY  INVENTIONS. 

was  to  keep  his  eye  very  careful  on  the  rigging  and 

sing  :— 

"  I  saw  a  ship  a-sailing, 
A-sailing  on  the  sea ; 
And  oh,  it  was  all  lading 
With  pretty  things  for  me  1 " 

Then  he  remembered  that  was  foolishness,  and  he 
started  off  to  say  about  the  Ombay  Passage,  but  all 
he  said  was :  "  The  captain  was  a  duck, — meaning  no 
offence  to  you,  sir, — but  there  was  something  on  his 
back  that  Fve  forgotten. 

"  And  when  the  ship  began  to  move 
The  captain  says, '  Quack-quack.' " 

'  He  noticed  the  captain  turn  very  red  and  angry, 
and  he  says  to  himself,  "My  foolish  tongue's  run 
away  with  me  again.  I'll  go  forward  ;  "  and  he  went 
forward,  and  catched  the  reflection  of  himself  in  the 
binnacle  brasses  ;  and  he  saw  that  he  was  standing 
there  and  talking  mother-naked  in  front  of  all  them 
sailors,  and  he  ran  into  the  fo'c's'le  howling  most 
grievous.  He  must  ha'  gone  naked  for  weeks  on 
the  Light,  and  Challong  o'  course  never  noticed  it. 
Challong  was  swimmin'  round  and  round  the  ship, 
sayin'  "  dam "  for  to  please  the  men  and  to  be  took 
aboard,  because  he  didn't  know  any  better. 

'  Dowse  didn't  tell  what  happened  after  this,  but 
seemingly  our  Survey  ship  lowered  two  boats  and 
went  over  to  Dowse's  buoys.  They  took  one  sound- 
ing, and  then  finding  it  was  all  correct  they  cut  the 


THE  DISTUKBER  OF  TRAFFIC.  23 

buoys  that  Dowse  and  Challong  had  made,  and  let 
the  tide  carry  'em  out  through  the  Loby  Toby  end 
of  the  strait ;  and  the  Dutch  gunboat,  she  sent  two 
men  ashore  to  take  care  o'  the  Wurlee  Light,  and 
the  Britomarte,  she  went  away  with  Dowse,  leaving 
Challong  to  try  to  follow  them,  a-calling  "  dam — 
dam"  all  among  the  wake  of  the  screw,  and  half 
heaving  himself  out  of  water  and  joining  his  webby- 
foot  hands  together.  He  dropped  astern  in  five 
minutes,  and  I  suppose  he  went  back  to  the  Wurlee 
Light.  You  can't  drown  an  Orange-Lord,  not  even 
in  Flores  Strait  on  flood-tide. 

'  Dowse  come  across  me  when  he  came  to  England 
with  the  Survey  ship,  after  being  more  than  six 
months  in  her,  and  cured  of  his  streaks  by  working 
hard  and  not  looking  over  the  side  more  than  he 
could  help.  He  told  me  what  I've  told  you,  sir,  and 
he  was  very  much  ashamed  of  himself:  but  the 
trouble  on  his  mind  was  to  know  whether  he  hadn't 
sent  something  or  other  to  the  bottom  with  his 
buoyings  and  his  lightings  and  such  like.  He  put 
it  to  me  many  times,  and  each  time  more  and  more 
sure  he  was  that  something  had  happened  in  the 
straits  because  of  him.  I  think  that  distructed  him, 
because  I  found  him  up  at  Fratton  one  day,  in  a  red 
jersey,  a-praying  before  the  Salvation  Army,  which 
had  produced  him  in  their  papers  as  a  Reformed 
Pirate.  They  knew  from  his  mouth  that  he  had 
committed  evil  on  the  deep  waters, — that  was  what 


24  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

lie  told  them, — and  piracy,  wliicli  no  one  does  now 
except  Chineses,  was  all  they  knew  of.  I  says  to 
him :  "  Dowse,  don't  be  a  fool.  Take  off  that  jersey 
and  come  along  with  me/'  He  says :  "  Fenwick,  I'm 
a-saving  of  my  soul;  for  I  do  believe  that  I  have 
killed  more  men  in  Flores  Strait  than  Trafalgar."  I 
says  :  "  A  man  that  thought  he'd  seen  all  the  navies 
of  the  earth  standing  round  in  a  ring  to  watch  his 
foolish  false  wreck-buoys  "  (those  was  my  very  words 
I  used)  "ain't  fit  to  have  a  soul,  and  if  he  did  ho 
couldn't  kill  a  flea  with  it.  John  Dowse,  you  was 
mad  then,  but  you  are  a  damn  sight  madder  now. 
Take  off  that  there  jersey." 

'  He  took  it  off  and  come  along  with  me,  but  he 
never  got  rid  o'  that  suspicion  that  he'd  sunk  some 
ships  a-cause  of  his  foolishnesses  at  Flores  Straits ; 
and  now  he's  a  wherryman  from  Portsmouth  to 
Gosport,  where  the  tides  run  crossways  and  you 
can't  row  straight  for  ten  strokes  together.  ...  So 
late  as  all  this !  Look ! ' 

Fenwick  left  his  chair,  passed  to  the  Light, 
touched  something  that  clicked,  and  the  glare  ceased 
with  a  suddenness  that  was  pain.  Day  had  conie, 
and  the  Channel  needed  St.  Cecilia  no  longer.  The 
sea-fog  rolled  back  from  the  cliffs  in  trailed  wreaths 
and  drugged  patches,  as  the  sun  rose  and  made  the 
dead  sea  alive  and  splendid.  The  stillness  of  the 
morning  held  us  botli  silent  as  we  stepped  on  the 


THE  DISTUBRER  OF  TEAFFIC.  25 

balcony.  A  lark  went  up  from  the  cliffs  behind  St. 
Cecilia,  and  we  smelt  a  smell  of  cows  in  the  light- 
house pastures  below. 

So  you  see  we  were  both  at  liberty  to  thank 
the  Lord  for  another  day  of  clean  and  wholesome 
life. 


A  CONFERENCE  OF  THE  POWERS. 

Life  liveth  but  in  life,  and  doth  not  roam 
To  other  lands  if  all  be  well  at  home : 
'  Solid  as  ocean  foam,'  quoth  ocean  foam. 

THE  room  was  blue  with  the  smoke  of  three 
pipes  and  a  cigar.  The  leave-season  had  opened  in 
India,  and  the  first-fruits  on  this  side  of  the  water 
were  'Tick'  Boileau,  of  the  45th  Bengal  Cavalry, 
who  called  on  me,  after  three  years'  absence,  to  dis- 
cuss old  things  which  had  happened.  Fate,  who 
always  does  her  work  handsomely,  sent  up  the  same 
staircase  within  the  same  hour  The  Infant,  fresh 
from  Upper  Burma,  and  he  and  Boileau  looking  out 
of  my  window  saw  walking  in  the  street  one  Nevin, 
late  in  a  Gurkha  regiment  which  had  been  through 
the  Black  Mountain  Expedition.  They  yelled  to 
him  to  come  up,  and  the  whole  street  was  aware 
that  they  desired  him  to  come  up,  and  he  came  up, 
and  there  followed  Pandemonium  in  my  room  be- 
cause we  had  foregathered  from  the  ends  of  the 
earth,  and  three  of  us  were  on  a  holiday,  and  none 
of  us  were  twenty-five,  and  all  the  delights  of  all 
London  lay  waiting  our  pleasure. 

Copyright,  1890,  by  Harper  &  Brothers. 


A   CONFERENCE   OF  THE  POWERS.  27 

Boileau  took  the  only  other  chair,  The  Infant,  by 
right  of  his  bulk,  the  sofa ;  and  Nevin,  being  a  little 
man,  sat  cross-legged  on  the  top  of  the  revolving 
bookcase,  and  we  all  said, '  Who'd  ha'  thought  it ! ' 
and  'What  are  you  doing  here?'  till  speculation 
was  exhausted  and  the  talk  went  over  to  inevitable 
'shop.'  .Boileau  was  full  of  a  great  scheme  for  win- 
ning a  military  attache-ship  at  St.  Petersburg; 
Nevin  had  hopes  of  the  Staff  College,  and  The  In- 
fant had  been  moving  heaven  and  earth  and  the 
Horse  Guards  for  a  commission  in  the  Egyptian 
army. 

'  What's  the  use  o'  that  ? '  said  Nevin,  twirling 
round  on  the  bookcase. 

'Oh,  heaps!  'Course  if  you  get  stuck  with  a 
Fellaheen  regiment,  you're  sold ;  but  if  you  are  ap- 
pointed to  a  Soudanese  lot,  you're  in  clover.  They 
are  first-class  fighting-men — and  just  think  of  the 
eligible  central  position  of  Egypt  in  the  next  row/ 

This  was  putting  the  match  to  a  magazine.  We 
all  began  to  explain  the  Central  Asian  question 
off-hand,  flinging  army  corps  from  the  Helmund  to 
Kashmir  with  more  than  Russian  recklessness. 
Each  of  the  boys  made  for  himself  a  war  to  his  own 
liking,  and  when  we  had  settled  all  the  details  of 
Armageddon,  killed  all  our  senior  officers,  handled  a 
division  apiece,  and  nearly  torn  the  atlas  in  two  in 
attempts  to  explain  our  theories,  Boileau  needs  must 
lift  up  his  voice  above  the  clamour,  and  cry, '  Any- 


28  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

how  it'll  be  the  hell  of  a  row ! '  in  tones  that  carried 
conviction  far  down  the  staircase. 

Entered,  unperceived  in  the  smoke,  William  the 
Silent.'  'Gen'elman  to  see  you,  sir/  said  he,  and 
disappeared,  leaving  in  his  stead  none  other  than 
Mr.  Eustace  Cleever.  William  would  have  intro- 
duced the  Dragon  of  Wantley  with  equal  disregard 
of  present  company. 

'  I — I  beg  your  pardon.  I  didn't  know  that  there 
was  anybody — with  you.  I " 

But  it  was  not  seemly  to  allow  Mr.  Cleever  to 
depart:  he  was  a  great  man.  The  boys  remained 
where  they  were,  for  any  movement  would  have 
choked  up  the  little  room.  Only  when  they  saw  his 
gray  hairs  they  stood  on  their  feet,  and  when  The 
Infant  caught  the  name,  he  said : 

'  Are  you — did  you  write  that  book  called  As  it 
was  in  the  Beginning  ? ' 

Mr.  Cleever  admitted  that  he  had  written  the 
book. 

'  Then — then  I  don't  know  how  to  thank  you,  sir/ 
said  The  Infant,  flushing  pink.  '  I  was  brought  up 
in  the  country  you  wrote  about — all  my  people  live 
there ;  and  I  read  the  book  in  camp  on  the  Hline- 
datalone,  and  I  knew  every  stick  and  stone,  and  the 
dialect  too ;  and,  by  Jove !  it  was  just  like  being  at 
home  and  hearing  the  country-people  talk.  Nevin, 
you  know  As  it  was  in  the  Beginning  f  So  does 
Ti— Boileau/ 


A   CONFERENCE   OF  THE  POWEES.  29 

Mr.  Cleever  has  tasted  as  much  praise,  public 
and  private,  as  one  man  may  safely  swallow ;  but  it 
seemed  to  me  that  the  out-spoken  admiration  in  The 
Infant's  eyes,  and  the  little  stir  in  the  little  company 
came  home  to  him  very  nearly  indeed. 

*  Won't  you  take  the  sofa  ? '  said  The  Infant. 

Til  sit  on  Boileau's  chair,  and 'here  he  looked 

at  me  to  spur  me  to  my  duties  as  a  host ;  but  I  was 
watching  the  novelist's  face.  Cleever  had  not  the 
least  intention  of  going  away,  but  settled  himself  on 
the  sofa. 

Following  the  first  great  law  of  the  Army,  which 
says  'all  property  is  common  except  money,  and 
you've  only  got  to  ask  .the  next  man  for  that/  The 
Infant  offered  tobacco  and  drink.  It  was  the  least 
he  could  do;  but  not  the  most  lavish  praise  in  the 
world  held  half  as  much  appreciation  and  reverence 
as  The  Infant's  simple  'Say  when,  sir/  above  the 
long  glass. 

Cleever  said  '  when/  and  more  thereto,  for  he  was 
a  golden  talker,  and  he  sat  in  the  midst  of  hero-wor- 
ship devoid  of  all  taint  of  self-interest.  The  boys 
asked  him  of  the  birth  of  his  book  and  whether  it 
was  hard  to  write,  and  how  his  notions  came  to  him ; 
and  he  answered  with  the  same  absolute  simplicity 
as  he  was  questioned.  His  big  eyes  twinkled,  he  dug 
his  long  thin  hands  into  his  gray  beard  and  tugged 
it  as  he  grew  animated.  He  dropped  little  by  little 
from  the  peculiar  pinching  of  the  broader  vowels — 


30  MANY  INVENTIONS. 

the  indefinable  '  Eu.li/  that  runs  through  the  speech 
of  the  pundit  caste — and  the  elaborate  choice  of 
words,  to  freely-mouthed  '  ows '  and  ( ois/  and,  for 
him  at  least,  unfettered  colloquialisms.  He  could 
not  altogether  understand  the  boys,  who  hung  upon 
his  words  so  reverently.  The  line  of  the  chin-strap, 
that  still  showed  white  and  untanned  on  cheek-bone 
and  jaw,  the  steadfast  young  eyes  puckered  at  the 
corners  of  the  lids  with  much  staring  through  red- 
hot  sunshine,  the  slow,  untroubled  breathing,  and 
the  curious,  crisp,  curt  speech  seemed  to  puzzle  him 
equally.  He  could  create  men  and  women,  and  send 
them  to  the  uttermost  ends  of  the  earth,  to  help  de- 
light and  comfort ;  he  knew  every  mood  of  the  fields, 
and  could  interpret  them  to  the  cities,  and  he  knew 
the  hearts  of  many  in  city  and  the  country,  but  he 
had  hardly,  in  forty  years,  come  into  contact  with 
the  thing  which  is  called  a  Subaltern  of  the  Line. 
He  told  the  boys  this  in  his  own  way. 

'  Well,  how  should  you  ? '  said  The  Infant.  '  You 
—you're  quite  different,  y'  see,  sir/ 

The  Infant  expressed  his  ideas  in  his  tone  rather 
than  his  words,  but  Cleever  understood  the  com- 
pliment. 

'We're  only  Subs/  said  Nevin,  'and  we  aren't 
exactly  the  sort  of  men  you'd  meet  much  in  your 
life,  I  s'pose.' 

'  That's  true/  said  Cleever.  'I  live  chiefly  among 
men  who  write,  and  paint,  and  sculp,  and  so  forth. 


A   CONFERENCE   OF  THE  POWERS.  31 

We  have  our  own  talk  and  our  own  interests,  and 
the  outer  world  doesn't  trouble  us  much/ 

'  That  must  be  awfully  jolly,'  said  Boileau,  at  a 
venture.  '  "We  have  our  own  shop,  too,  but  'tisn't 
half  as  interesting  as  yours,  of  course.  You  know 
all  the  men  who've  ever  done  anything;  and  we 
only  knock  about  from  place  to  place,  and  we  do 
nothing/ 

'  The  Army's  a  very  lazy  profession  if  you  choose 
to  make  it  so/  said  Nevin.  'When  there's  noth- 
ing going  on,  there  is  nothing  going  on,  and  you 
lie  up/ 

'  Or  try  to  get  a  billet  somewhere,  to  be  ready  for 
the  next  show/  said  The  Infant  with  a  chuckle. 

'To  me/ said  Cleever  softly, '  the  whole  idea  of 
warfare  seems  so  foreign  and  unnatural,  so  essen- 
tially vulgar,  if  I  may  say  so,  that  I  can  hardly 
appreciate  your  sensations.  Of  course,  though,  any 
change  from  idling  in  garrison  towns  must  be  a  god- 
send to  you/ 

Like  many  home-staying  Englishmen,  Cleever 
believed  that  the  newspaper  phrase  he  quoted  cov- 
ered the  whole  duty  of  the  Army  whose  toils  en- 
abled him  to  enjoy  his  many-sided  life  in  peace. 
The  remark  was  not  a  happy  one,  for  Boileau  had 
just  come  off  the  Frontier,  The  Infant  had  been  on 
the  warpath  for  nearly  eighteen  months,  and  the 
little  red  man  Nevin  two  months  before  had  been 
sleeping  under  the  stars  at  the  peril  of  his  life.  But 


32  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

none  of  them  tried  to  explain,  till  I  ventured  to  point 
out  that  they  had  all  seen  service  and  were  not  used 
to  idling.  Cleever  took  in  the  idea  slowly. 

f  Seen  service  ?'  said  he.  Then,  as  a  child  might 
ask,  'Tell  me.  Tell  me  everything  about  every- 
thing/ 

'  How  do  you  mean  ? '  said  The  Infant,  delighted 
at  being  directly  appealed  to  by  the  great  man. 

'  Good  Heavens  !  How  am  I  to  make  you  under- 
stand, if  you  can't  see.  In  the  first  place,  what  is 
your  age  ?' 

'  Twenty  -  three  next  July/  said  The  Infant 
promptly. 

Cleever  questioned  the  others  with  his  eyes. 

'  I'm  twenty-four/  said  Neviii. 

'  And  I'm  twenty-two/  said  Boileau. 

'  And  you've  all  seen  service  ? ' 

'  We've  all  knocked  about  a  little  bit,  sir,  but  The 
Infant's  the  war-worn  veteran.  He's  had  two  years' 
work  in  Upper  Burma/  said  Nevin. 

'  When  you  say  work,  what  do  you  mean,  you 
extraordinary  creatures  ? ' 

'  Explain  it,  Infant/  said  Nevin. 

*  Oh,  keeping  things  in  order  generally,  and  run- 
ning about  after  little  dakus — that's  dacoits — and  so 
on.  There's  nothing  to  explain/ 

'  Make  that  young  Leviathan  speak/  said  Cleever 
impatiently,  above  his  glass. 

'  How  can  he  speak  ? '   said  I.    '  He's  done  the 


A   CONFERENCE   OF  THE  POWERS.  33 

work.  The  two  don't  go  together.  But,  Infant, 
you're  ordered  to  bukh.' 

'  What  about  ?    I'll  try/ 

'  Bukh  about  a  daur.  You've  been  on  heaps  of 
'em/  said  Nevin. 

'  What  in  the  world  does  that  mean  ?  Has  the 
Army  a  language  of  its  own  ? ' 

The  Infant  turned  very  red.  He  was  afraid  he 
was  being  laughed  at,  and  he  detested  talking  before 
outsiders ;  but  it  was  the  author  of  As  it  was  in  the 
Beginning  who  waited. 

'  It's  all  so  new  to  me/  pleaded  Cleever ;  'and — 
and  you  said  you  liked  my  book/ 

This  was  a  direct  appeal  that  The  Infant  could 
understand,  and  he  began  rather  flurriedly,  with 
much  slang  bred  of  nervousness — 

'  Pull  me  up,  sir,  if  I  say  anything  you  don't  fol- 
low. About  six  months  before  I  took  my  leave  out 
of  Burma,  I  was  on  the  Hlinedatalone,  up  near  the 
Shan  States,  with  sixty  Tommies — private  soldiers, 
that  is — and  another  subaltern,  a  year  senior  to  me. 
The  Burmese  business  was  a  subaltern's  war,  and 
our  forces  were  split  up  into  little  detachments,  all 
running  about  the  country  and  trying  to  keep  the 
dacoits  quiet.  The  dacoits  were  having  a  first-class 
time,  y'  know — filling  women  up  with  kerosine  and 
setting  'em  alight,  and  burning  villages,  and  cruci- 
fying people/ 

The  wonder  in  Eustace  Cleever's  eyes  deepened. 


34  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

He  could  not  quite  realise  that  the  cross  still  existed 
in  any  form. 

( Have  you  ever  seen  a  crucifixion  ? '  said  he. 

'  Of  course  not.  'Shouldn't  have  allowed  it  if  I 
had ;  but  I've  seen  the  corpses.  The  dacoits  had  a 
trick  of  sending  a  crucified  corpse  down  the  river  on 
a  raft,  just  to  show  they  were  keeping  their  tail  up 
and  enjoying  themselves.  Well,  that  was  the  kind 
of  people  I  had  to  deal  with.' 

'  Alone  ? '  said  Cleever.  Solitude  of  the  soul  he 
could  understand — none  better — but  he  had  never  in 
the  body  moved  ten  miles  from  his  fellows. 

'I  had  my  men,  but  the  rest  of  it  was  pretty 
much  alone.  The  nearest  post  that  could  give  me 
orders  was  fifteen  miles  away,  and  we  used  to  helio- 
graph to  them,  and  they  used  to  give  us  orders  same 
way — too  many  orders/ 

'  Who  was  your  C.  O.  ? '  said  Boileau. 

'  Bounderby — Major.  Pukka  Bounderby ;  more 
Bounder  than  pukka.  He  went  out  up  Bhamo  way. 
Shot,  or  cut  down,  last  year,'  said  The  Infant. 

'  What  are  these  interludes  in  a  strange  tongue  ? ' 
said  Cleever  to  me. 

'  Professional  information — like  the  Mississippi 
pilots'  talk,'  said  I.  '  Ho  did  not  approve  of  his  ma- 
jor, who  died  a  violent  death.  Go  on,  Infant.' 

'  Far  too  many  orders.  You  couldn't  take  the 
Tommies  out  for  a  two  days'  daw — that's  expedi- 
tion— without  being  blown  up  for  not  asking  leave. 


A   CONFERENCE   OF  THE  POWEKS.  35 

And  the  whole  country  was  humming  with  dacoits. 
I  used  to  send  out  spies,  and  act  on  their  informa- 
tion. As  soon  as  a  man  came  in  and  told  me  of  a 
gang  in  hiding,  I'd  take  thirty  men  with  some  grub, 
and  go  out  and  look  for  them,  while  the  other  subal- 
tern lay  doggo  in  camp/ 

'  Lay  !  Pardon  me,  but  how  did  he  lie  ? '  said 
Cleever. 

'  Lay  doggo — lay  quiet,  with  the  other  thirty  men. 
When  I  came  back,  he'd  take  out  his  half  of  the 
men,  and  have  a  good  time  of  his  own/ 

'  Who  was  he  ? '  said  Boileau. 

'  Carter-Deecey,  of  the  Aurungabadis.  Good 
chap,  but  too  zubberdusty,  and  went  bokhar  four 
days  out  of  seven.  He's  gone  out  too.  Don't  inter- 
rupt a  man/ 

Cleever  looked  helplessly  at  me. 

*  The  other  subaltern/  I  translated  swiftly, '  came 
from  a  native  regiment,  and  was  overbearing  in  his 
demeanour.  He  suffered  much  from  the  fever  of  the 
country,  and  is  now  dead.  Go  on,  Infant/ 

( After  a  bit,  we  got  into  trouble  for  using  the 
men  on  frivolous  occasions,  and  so  I  used  to  put  my 
signaller  under  arrest  to  prevent  him  reading  the 
helio-orders.  Then  I'd  go  out  and  leave  a  message 
to  be  sent  an  hour  after  I  got  clear  of  the  camp, 
something  like  this  :  "  Received  important  informa- 
tion ;  start  in  an  hour,  unless  countermanded."  If  I 
was  ordered  back,  it  didn't  much  matter.  I  swore 


36  MANY  INVENTIONS. 

the  C.  O.'s  watch  was  wrong,  or  something,  when  I 
came  back.  The  Tommies  enjoyed  the  fun,  and — 
Oh,  yes,  there  was  one  Tommy  who  was  the  bard 
of  the  detachment.  He  used  to  make  up  verses  on 
everything  that  happened.' 

'  What  sort  of  verses  ? '  said  Cleever. 

'  Lovely  verses ;  and  the  Tommies  used  to  sing 
'em.  There  was  one  song  with  a  chorus,  and  it  said 
something  like  this/  The  Infant  dropped  into  the 
true  barrack-room  twang : 

'  Theebaw,  the  Burma  king,  did  a  very  foolish  thing, 

When  'e  mustered  'ostile  forces  in  ar-rai, 
'E  little  thought  that  we,  from  far  across  the  sea, 
Would  send  our  armies  up  to  Mandalai ! ' 

'  O  gorgeous ! "  said  Cleever.  '  And  how  magnifi- 
cently direct !  The  notion  of  a  regimental  bard  is 
new  to  me,  but  of  course  it  must  be  so.' 

'  He  was  awf 'ly  popular  with  the  men,'  said  The 
Infant.  '  He  had  them  all  down  in  rhyme  as  soon 
as  ever  they  had  done  anything.  He  was  a  great 
bard.  He  was  always  ready  with  an  elegy  when  we 
picked  up  a  Boh — that's  a  leader  of  dacoits.' 

'  How  did  you  pick  him  up  ?  "  said  Cleever. 

'  Oh !  shot  him  if  he  wouldn't  surrender/ 

'  You  !    Have  you  shot  a  man  ? ' 

There  was  a  subdued  chuckle  from  all  three  boys, 
and  it  dawned  on  the  questioner  that  one  experience 
in  life  which  was  denied  to  himself,  and  he  weighed 
the  souls  of  men  in  a  balance,  had  been  shared  by 


A   CONFERENCE   OF  THE   POWERS.  37 

three  very  young  gentlemen  of  engaging  appear- 
ance. He  turned  round  on  Nevin,  who  had  climbed 
to  the  top  of  the  "bookcase,  and  was  sitting  cross- 
legged  as  before. 

'  And  have  you,  too  ? ' 

'  'Think  so/  said  Nevin,  sweetly.  '  In  the  Black 
Mountain.  He  was  rolling  cliffs  on  to  my  half- 
company,  and  spoiling  our  formation.  I  took  a 
rifle  from  a  man,  and  brought  him  down  at  the 
second  shot/ 

'  Good  heavens !  And  how  did  you  feel  after- 
wards ?' 

( Thirsty.     I  wanted  a  smoke,  too/ 

Cleever  looked  at  Boileau — the  youngest.  Surely 
his  hands  were  guiltless  of'  blood. 

Boileau  shook  his  head  and  laughed.  'Go  on, 
Infant,'  said  he. 

'  And  you  too  ? '  said  Cleever. 

'  Fancy  so.  It  was  a  case  of  cut,  cut  or  be  cut, 
with  me ;  so  I  cut — one.  I  couldn't  do  any  more,  sir/ 

Cleever  looked  as  though  he  would  like  to  ask 
many  questions,  but  The  Infant  swept  on,  in  the  full 
tide  of  his  tale. 

*  Well,  we  were  called  insubordinate  young 
whelps  at  last,  and  strictly  forbidden  to  take  the 
Tommies  out  any  more  without  orders.  I  wasn't 
sorry,  because  Tommy  is  such  an  exacting  sort  of 
creature.  He  wants  to  live  as  though  he  were  in 
barracks  all  the  time.  I  was  grubbing  on  fowls  and 


38  MANY  INVENTIONS. 

boiled  corn,  but  the  Tommies  wanted  their  pound  of 
fresh  meat,  and  their  half  ounce  of  this,  and  their 
two  ounces  of  t'other  thing,  and  they  used  to  come 
to  me  and  badger  me  for  plug-tobacco  when  we  were 
four  days  in  jungle.  I  said :  "  I  can  get  you  Burma 
tobacco,  but  I  don't  keep  a  canteen  up  my  sleeve." 
They  couldn't  see  it.  They  wanted  all  the  luxuries 
of  the  season,  confound  'em/ 

'You  were  alone  when  you  were  dealing  with 
these  men  ?'  said  Cleever,  watching  The  Infant's 
face  under  the  palm  of  his  hand.  He  was  receiving 
new  ideas,  and  they  seemed  to  trouble  him. 

'  Of  course,  unless  you  count  the  mosquitoes. 
They  were  nearly  as  big  as  the  men.  After  I  had 
to  lie  doggo  I  began  to  look  for  something  to  do, 
and  I  was  great  pals  with  a  man  called  Hicksey  in 
the  Police,  the  best  man  that  ever  stepped  on  earth ; 
a  first-class  man.' 

Cleever  nodded  applause.  He  knew  how  to  ap- 
preciate enthusiasm. 

1  Hicksey  and  I  were  as  thick  as  thieves.  He  had 
some  Burma  mounted  police — rummy  chaps,  armed 
with  sword  and  snider  carbine.  They  rode  punchy 
Burma  ponies,  with  string  stirrups,  red  cloth  sad- 
dles, and  red  bell-rope  headstalls.  Hicksey  used  to 
lend  me  six  or  eight  of  them  when  I  asked  him — 
nippy  little  devils,  keen  as  mustard.  But  they  told 
their  wives  too  much,  and  all  my  plans  got  known, 
till  I  learned  to  give  false  marching  orders  over- 


A   CONFERENCE  OF  THE  POWERS.  39 

night,  and  take  the  men  to  quite  a  different  village 
in  the  morning.  Then  we  used  to  catch  the  simple 
daku  before  breakfast,  and  made  him  very  sick. 
It's  a  ghastly  country  on  the  Hlinedatalone ;  all 
bamboo  jungle,  with  paths  about  four  feet  wide 
winding  through  it.  The  daku  knew  all  the  paths, 
and  potted  at  us  as  we  came  round  a  corner ;  but  the 
mounted  police  knew  the  paths  as  well  as  the  daku, 
and  we  used  to  go  stalking  'em  in  and  out.  Once 
we  flushed  'em,  the  men  on  the  ponies  had  the  ad- 
vantage of  the  men  on  foot.  We  held  all  the  coun- 
try absolutely  quiet,  for  ten  miles  round,  in  about  a 
month.  Then  we  took  Boh  Na-ghee,  Hicksey  and  I 
and  the  civil  officer.  That  was  a  lark ! ' 

'  I  think  I  am  beginning  to  understand  a  little,' 
said  Cleever.  '  It  was  a  pleasure  to  you  to  adminis- 
ter and  fight?" 

( Rather !  There's  nothing  nicer  than  a  satisfac- 
tory little  expedition,  when  you  find  your  plans  fit 
together,  and  your  conformation's  teek — correct,  you 
know,  and  the  whole  sub-chiz — I  mean,  when  every- 
thing works  out  like  formulae  on  a  blackboard. 
Hicksey  had  all  the  information  about  the  Boh.  He 
had  been  burning  villages  and  murdering  people 
right  and  left,  and  cutting  up  Government  convoys 
and  all  that.  He  was  lying  doggo  in  a  village  about 
fifteen  miles  off,  waiting  to  get  a  fresh  gang  to- 
gether. So  we  arranged  to  take  thirty  mounted 
police,  and  turn  him  out  before  he  could  plunder 


40  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

into  our  newly-settled  villages.  At  the  last  minute, 
the  civil  officer  in  our  part  of  the  world  thought 
he'd  assist  at  the  performance/ 

'  Who  was  he  ? '  said  Nevin. 

1  His  name  was  Dennis/  said  The  Infant  slowly. 
'And  we'll  let  it  stay  so.  He's  a  better  man  now 
than  he  was  then.' 

( But  how  old  was  the  civil  power  ? '  said  Cleever. 
*  The  situation  is  developing  itself.' 

'  He  was  about  six-and-twenty,  and  he  was  awf'ly 
clever.  He  knew  a  lot  of  things,  but  I  don't  think 
he  was  quite  steady  enough  for  dacoit-hunting.  We 
started  overnight  for  Boh  Naghee's  village,  and  we 
got  there  just  before  morning,  without  raising  an 
alarm.  Dennis  had  turned  out  armed  to  his  teeth — 
two  revolvers,  a  carbine,  and  all  sorts  of  things.  I 
was  talking  to  Hicksey  about  posting  the  men,  and 
Dennis  edged  his  pony  in  between  us,  and  said, 
"  What  shall  I  do  ?  What  shall  I  do  ?  Tell  me 
what  to  do,  you  fellows  ? "  We  didn't  take  much 
notice ;  but  his  pony  tried  to  bite  me  in  the  leg,  and 
I  said,  "  Pull  out  a  bit,  old  man,  till  we've  settled  the 
attack."  He  kept  edging  in,  and  fiddling  with  his 
reins  and  his  revolvers,  and  saying,  "Dear  me! 
Dear  me!  Oh,  dear  me!  What  do  you  think  I'd 
better  do  ?  "  The  man  was  in  a  deadly  funk,  and  his 
teeth  were  chattering/ 

'  I  sympathise  with  the  civil  power,'  said  Cleever. 
'  Continue,  young  Clive/ 


A   CONFERENCE  OF  THE  POWERS.  41 

'  The  fun  of  it  was,  that  he  was  supposed  to  be 
our  superior  officer.  Hicksey  took  a  good  look  at 
him,  and  told  him  to  attach  himself  to  my  party. 
Beastly  mean  of  Hicksey,  that.  The  chap  kept  on 
edging  in  and  bothering,  instead  of  asking  for  some 
men  and  taking  up  his  own  position,  till  I  got  angry, 
and  the  carbines  began  popping  on  the  other  side  of 
the  village.  Then  I  said,  "  For  God's  sake  be  quiet, 
and  sit  down  where  you  are !  If  you  see  anybody 
come  out  of  the  village,  shoot  at  him."  I  knew  he 
couldn't  hit  a  hayrick  at  a  yard.  Then  I  took 
my  men  over  the  garden  wall — over  the  palisades, 
y'  know — somehow  or  other,  and  the  fun  began. 
Hicksey  had  found  the  Boh  in  bed  under  a  mos- 
quito-curtain, and  he  had  taken  a  flying  jump  on  to 
him/ 

'  A  flying  jump ! '  said  Cleever.  '  Is  that  also 
war?' 

*  Yes,'  said  The  Infant,  now  thoroughly  warmed. 
'  Don't  you  know  how  you  take  a  flying  jump  on  to 
a  fellow's  head  at  school,  when  he  snores  in  the  dor- 
mitory ?  The  Boh  was  sleeping  in  a  bedful  of 
swords  and  pistols,  and  Hicksey  came  down  like 
Zazel  through  the  netting,  and  the  net  got  mixed  up 
with  the  pistols  and  the  Boh  and  Hicksey,  and  they 
all  rolled  on  the  floor  together.  I  laughed  till  I 
couldn't  stand,  and  Hicksey  was  cursing  me  for  not 
helping  him ;  so  I  left  him  to  fight  it  out  and  went 
into  the  village.  Our  men  were  slashing  about  and 


42  MANY  INVENTIONS. 

firing,  and  so  were  the  dacoits,  and  in  the  thick  of 
the  mess,  some  ass  set  fire  to  a  house,  and  we  all  had 
to  clear  out.  I  froze  on  to  the  nearest  daku  and  ran 
to  the  palisade,  shoving  him  in  front  of  me.  He 
wriggled  loose  and  bounded  over  the  other  side.  I 
came  after  him ;  but  when  I  had  one  leg  one  side 
and  one  leg  the  other  of  the  palisade,  I  saw  that  the 
daku  had  fallen  flat  on  Dennis's  head.  That  man 
had  never  moved  from  where  I  left  him.  They 
rolled  on  the  ground  together,  and  Dennis's  carbine 
went  off  and  nearly  shot  me.  The  daku  picked  him- 
self up  and  ran,  and  Dennis  buzzed  his  carbine  after 
him,  and  it  caught  him  on  the  back  of  his  head,  and 
knocked  him  silly.  You  never  saw  anything  so 
funny  in  your  life.  I  doubled  up  on  the  top  of  the 
palisade  and  hung  there,  yelling  with  laughter.  But 
Dennis  began  to  weep  like  anything.  "  Oh,  I've 
killed  a  man,"  he  said.  "  I've  killed  a  man,  and  I 
shall  never  know  another  peaceful  hour  in  my  life. 
Is  he  dead  ?  Oh,  is  he  dead  ?  Good  Lord,  I've 
killed  a  man !  "  I  came  down  and  said,  "  Don't  be  a 
fool ; "  but  he  kept  on  shouting,  "  Is  he  dead  ?  "  till 
I  could  have  kicked  him.  The  daku  was  only 
knocked  out  of  time  with  the  carbine.  He  came  to 
after  a  bit,  and  I  said,  "  Are  you  hurt  much  ?  "  He 
groaned  and  said  "  No."  His  chest  was  all  cut  with 
scrambling  over  the  palisade.  "The  white  man's 
gun  didn't  do  that/'  he  said,  "I  did  that,  and  I 
knocked  the  white  man  over."  Just  like  a  Burman, 


A   CONFERENCE  OF  THE  POWERS.  43 

wasn't  it  ?  But  Dennis  wouldn't  be  happy  at  any 
price.  He  said :  "  Tie  up  his  wounds.  He'll  bleed 
to  death.  Oh,  he'll  bleed  to  death  ! "  "  Tie  'em  up 
yourself,"  I  said,  "  if  you're  so  anxious."  "  I  can't 
touch  him,"  said  Dennis,  "  but  here's  my  shirt."  He 
took  off  his  shirt,  and  fixed  the  braces  again  over  his 
bare  shoulders.  I  ripped  the  shirt  up,  and  bandaged 
the  dacoit  quite  professionally.  He  was  grinning  at 
Dennis  all  the  time;  and  Dennis's  haversack  was 
lying  on  the  ground,  bursting  full  of  sandwiches. 
Greedy  hog !  I  took  some,  and  offered  some  to  Den- 
nis. "  How  can  I  eat  ? "  he  said.  "  How  can  you 
ask  me  to  eat  ?  His  very  blood  is  on  your  hands 
now,  and  you're  eating  my  sandwiches ! "  "  All 
right,"  I  said ;  "  I'll  give  'em  to  the  daJcu."  So  I  did, 
and  the  little  chap  was  quite  pleased,  and  wolfed  'em 
down  like  one  o'clock.' 

Cleever  brought  his  hand  down  on  the  table 
with  a  thump  that  made  the  empty  glasses  dance. 
'  That's  Art ! '  he  said.  '  Flat,  flagrant  mechanism ! 
Don't  tell  me  that  happened  on  the  spot ! ' 

The  pupils  of  The  Infant's  eyes  contracted  to  two 
pin-points.  'I  beg  your  pardon,'  he  said,  slowly  and 
stiffly, '  but  I  am  telling  this  thing  as  it  happened.' 

Cleever  looked  at  him  a  moment.  '  My  fault 
entirely,'  said  he;  'I  should  have  known.  Please 
go  on.' 

'  Hicksey  came  out  of  what  was  left  of  the  village 

with  his  prisoners  and  captives,  all  neatly  tied  up. 
4 


44  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

Boh.  Na-ghee  was  first,  and  one  of  the  villagers,  as 
soon  as  lie  found  the  old  ruffian  helpless,  began  kick- 
ing him  quietly.  The  Boh  stood  it  as  long  as  he 
could,  and  then  groaned,  and  we  saw  what  was  going 
on.  Hicksey  tied  the  villager  up,  and  gave  him  a 
half  a  dozen,  good,  with  a  bamboo,  to  remind  him  to 
leave  a  prisoner  alone.  You  should  have  seen  the 
old  Boh  grin.  Oh !  but  Hicksey  was  in  a  furious 
rage  with  everybody.  He'd  got  a  wipe  over  the 
elbow  that  had  tickled  up  his  funny-bone,  and  he 
was  rabid  with  me  for  not  having  helped  him  with 
the  Boh  and  the  mosquito-net.  I  had  to  explain 
that  I  couldn't  do  anything.  If  you'd  seen  'em  both 
tangled  up  together  on  the  floor  in  one  kicking 
cocoon,  you'd  have  laughed  for  a  week.  Hicksey 
swore  that  the  only  decent  man  of  his  acquaintance 
was  the  Boh,  and  all  the  way  to  camp  Hicksey  was 
talking  to  the  Boh,  and  the  Boh  was  complaining 
about  the  soreness  of  his  bones.  When  we  got  back, 
and  had  had  a  bath,  the  Boh  wanted  to  know  when 
he  was  going  to  be  hanged.  Hicksey  said  he  couldn't 
oblige  him  on  the  spot,  but  had  to  send  him  to  Ran- 
goon. The  Boh  went  down  on  his  knees,  and  reeled 
off  a  catalogue  of  his  crimes — he  ought  to  have  been 
hanged  seventeen  times  over,  by  his  own  confession 
— and  implored  Hicksey  to  settle  the  business  out  of 
hand.  "  If  I'm  sent  to  Rangoon,"  said  he,  "  they'll 
keep  me  in  jail  all  my  life,  and  that  is  a  death  every 
time  the  sun  gets  up  or  the  wind  blows."  But  we 


A   CONFERENCE   OF  THE  POWERS.  45 

had  to  send  him  to  Rangoon,  and,  of  course,  he  was 
let  off  down  there,  and  given  penal  servitude  for  life. 
When  I  came  to  Rangoon  I  went  over  the  jail — I  had 
helped  to  fill  it,  y'  know — and  the  old  Boh  was  there, 
and  he  spotted  me  at  once.  He  begged  for  some 
opium  first,  and  I  tried  to  get  him  some,  but  that 
was  against  the  rules.  Then  he  asked  me  to  have 
his  sentence  changed  to  death,  because  he  was  afraid 
of  being  sent  to  the  Andamans.  I  couldn't  do  that 
either,  but  I  tried  to  cheer  him,  and  told  him  how 
things  were  going  up-country,  and  the  last  thing  he 
said  was — "  Give  my  compliments  to  the  fat  white 
man  who  jumped  on  me.  If  I'd  been  awake  I'd  have 
killed  him."  I  wrote  that  to  Hicksey  next  mail,  and 
— and  that's  all.  I'm  'fraid  I've  been  gassing  awf 'ly, 
sir/ 

Cleever  said  nothing  for  a  long  time.  The  Infant 
looked  uncomfortable.  He  feared  that,  misled  by 
enthusiasm,  he  had  filled  up  the  novelist's  time  with 
unprofitable  recital  of  trivial  anecdotes. 

'  Then  said  Cleever,  '  I  can't  understand.  Why 
should  you  have  seen  and  done  all  these  things  be- 
fore you  have  cut  your  wisdom-teeth  ? ' 

*  Don't  know,'  said  The  Infant  apologetically.    *  I 
haven't  seen  much — only  Burmese  jungle.' 

*  And  dead  men,  and  war,  and  power,  and  respon- 
sibility/ said  Cleever,  under  his  breath.    *  You  won't 
have  any  sensations  left  at  thirty,  if  you  go  on  as 
you  have  done.    But  I  want  to  hear  more  tales — 


46  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

more  tales!'    He  seemed  to  forget  that  even  sub- 
alterns might  have  engagements  of  their  own. 

'  We're  thinking  of  dining  out  somewhere — the 
lot  of  us — and  going  on  to  the  Empire  afterwards/ 
said  Nevin,  with  hesitation.  He  did  not  like  to  ask 
Cleever  to  come  too.  The  invitation  might  be  re- 
garded as  perilously  near  to  '  cheek/  And  Cleever, 
anxious  not  to  wag  a  gray  beard  unbidden  among 
boys  at  large,  said  nothing  on  his  side. 

Boileau  solved  the  little  difficulty  by  blurting 
out :  '  Won't  you  come  too,  sir  ? ' 

Cleever  almost  shouted  '  Yes/  and  while  he  was 
being  helped  into  his  coat,  continued  to  murmur 
*  Good  heavens ! '  at  intervals  in  a  way  that  the  boys 
could  not  understand. 

'I  don't  think  I've  been  to  the  Empire  in  my 
life/  said  he;  'but — what  is  my  life  after  all  ?  Let 
us  go/ 

They  went  out  with  Eustace  Cleever,  and  I 
sulked  at  home  because  they  had  come  to  see  me 
but  had  gone  over  to  the  better  man;  which  was 
humiliating.  They  packed  him  into  a  cab  with 
utmost  reverence,  for  was  he  not  the  author  of  As 
it  luas  in  the  Beginning,  and  a  person  in  whose  com- 
pany it  was  an  honour  to  go  abroad  ?  From  all  I 
gathered  later,  he  had  taken  less  interest  in  the  per- 
formance before  him  than  in  their  conversations, 
and  they  protested  with  emphasis  that  he  was  '  as 
good  a  man  as  they  make ;  knew  what  a  man  was 


A   CONFERENCE   OF  THE  POWERS.  47 

driving  at  almost  before  lie  said  it ;  and  yet  he's  so 
damned  simple  about  things  any  man  knows.'  That 
was  one  of  many  comments. 

At  midnight  they  returned,  announcing  that  they 
were '  highly  respectable  gondoliers/  and  that  oysters 
and  stout  were  what  they  chiefly  needed.  The  emi- 
nent novelist  was  still  with  them,  and  I  think  he 
was  calling  them  by  their  shorter  names.  I  am 
certain  that  he  said  he  had  been  moving  in  worlds 
not  realised,  and  that  they  had  shown  him  the 
Empire  in  a  new  light. 

Still  sore  at  recent  neglect,  I  answered  shortly, 
'  Thank  heaven  we  have  within  the  land  ten  thou- 
sand as  good  as  they/  and  when  he  departed,  asked 
him  what  he  thought  of  things  generally. 

He  replied  with  another  quotation,  to  the  effect 
that  though  singing  was  a  remarkably  fine  per- 
formance, I  was  to  be  quite  sure  that  few  lips  would 
be  moved  to  song  if  they  could  find  a  sufficiency  of 
kissing. 

Whereby  I  understood  that  Eustace  Cleever, 
decorator  and  colourman  in  words,  was  blaspheming 
his  own  Art,  and  would  be  sorry  for  this  in  the 
morning. 


MY  LORD  THE  ELEPHANT. 

'Less  you  want  your  toes  trod  off  you'd  better  get  back  at  once, 

For  the  bullocks  are  walkin'  two  by  two, 

The  byles  are  walkin'  two  by  two, 

The  bullocks  are  walkin'  two  by  two, 
An'  the  elephants  bring  the  guns ! 

Ho!    Yuss! 
Great — big — long — black — forty-pounder  guns : 

Jiggery-jolty  to  and  fro, 

Each  as  big  as  a  launch  in  tow — 
Blind — dumb — broad-breeched — beggars  o'  batterin'  guns. 

Barrack-room  Ballad. 

TOUCHING  the  truth  of  this  tale  there  need  be  no 
doubt  at  all,  for  it  was  told  to  me  by  Mulvaney  at 
the  back  of  the  elephant-lines,  one  warm  evening 
when  we  were  taking  the  dogs  out  for  exercise. 
The  twelve  Government  elephants  rocked  at  their 
pickets  outside  the  big  mud- walled  stables  (one  arch, 
as  wide  as  a  bridge-arch,  to  each  restless  beast),  and 
the  mahouts  were  preparing  the  evening  meal.  Now 
and  again  some  impatient  youngster  would  smell 
the  cooking  flour-cakes  and  squeal ;  and  the  naked 
little  children  of  the  elephant-lines  would  strut 
down  the  row  shouting  and  commanding  silence, 
or,  reaching  up,  would  slap  at  the  eager  trunks. 

Copyright,  1893,  by  D.  Appleton  &  Co. 


MY   LOED  THE   ELEPHANT.  49 

Then  the  elephants  feigned  to  be  deeply  interested 
in  pouring  dust  upon  their  heads,  but,  so  soon  as  the 
children  passed,  the  rocking,  fidgeting,  and  mutter- 
ing broke  out  again. 

The  sunset  was  dying,  and  the  elephants  heaved 
and  swayed  dead  black  against  the  one  sheet  of 
rose-red  low  down  in  the  dusty  gray  sky.  It  was 
at  the  beginning  of  the  hot  weather,  just  after  the 
troops  had  changed  into  their  white  clothes,  so 
Mulvaney  and  Ortheris,  looked  like  ghosts  walking 
through  the  dusk.  Learoyd  had  gone  off  to  another 
barrack  to  buy  sulphur-ointment  for  his  last  dog 
under  suspicion  of  mange,  and  with  delicacy  had 
put  his  kennel  into  quarantine  at  the  back  of  the 
furnace  where  they  cremate  the  anthrax-cases. 

'  You  wouldn't  like  mange,  little  woman  ? '  said 
Ortheris,  turning  my  terrier  over  on  her  fat  white 
back  with  his  foot.  '  You're  no  end  bloomin'  par- 
tic'lar,  you  are.  'Oo  wouldn't  take  no  notice  o'  me 
t'other  day  'cause  she  was  goin'  'ome  all  alone 
in  'er  dorg-cart,  eh  ?  Settin'  on  the  box-seat  like 
a  bloomin'  little  tart,  you  was,  Vicy.  Now  you 
run  along  an'  make  them  'uttees  'oiler.  Sick  'em, 
Vicy,  loo ! ' 

Elephants  loathe  little  dogs.  Vixen  barked  her- 
self down  the  pickets,  and  in  a  minute  all  the  ele- 
phants were  kicking  and  squealing  and  clucking 
together. 

'Oh,  you  soldier-men/  said  a  mahout  angrily, 


50  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

'  call  off  your  she-dog.  She  is  frightening  our  ele- 
phant-folk.' 

'  Rummy  beggars ! '  said  Ortheris  meditatively. 
'  'Call  'em  people,  same  as  if  they  was.  An'  they 
are  too.  Not  so  bloomin'  rummy  when  you  come 
to  think  of  it,  neither.' 

Vixen  returned  yapping  to  show  that  she  could 
do  it  again  if  she  liked,  and  established  herself  be- 
tween Ortheris's  knees,  smiling  a  large  smile  at  his 
lawful  dogs  who  dared  not  fly  at  her. 

'  'Seed  the  battery  this  mornin'  ? '  said  Ortheris. 
He  meant  the  newly-arrived  elephant-battery ;  oth- 
erwise he  would  have  said  simply  'guns.'  Three 
elephants  harnessed  tandem  go  to  each  gun,  and 
those  who  have  not  seen  the  big  forty-pounders  of 
position  trundling  along  in  the  wake  of  their  gigan- 
tic team  have  yet  something  to  behold.  The  lead- 
elephant  had  behaved  very  badly  on  parade;  had 
been  cut  loose,  sent  back  to  the  lines  in  disgrace, 
and  was  at  that  hour  squealing  and  lashing  out  with 
his  trunk  at  the  end  of  the  line  ;  a  picture  of  blind, 
bound,  bad-temper.  His  mahout,  standing  clear  of 
the  flail-like  blows,  was  trying  to  soothe  him. 

'  That's  the  beggar  that  cut  up  on  p'rade.  'E's 
must'  said  Ortheris  pointing.  '  There'll  be  murder 
in  the  lines  soon,  and  then,  per'aps,  Vll  get  loose  an' 
we'll  'ave  to  be  turned  out  to  shoot  'im,  same  as 
when  one  o'  they  native  king's  elephants  musted  last 
June.  'Ope  'e  will.' 


MY   LOKD  THE  ELEPHANT.  51 

( Must  be  sugared !  *  said  Mulvaney  contemptu- 
ously from  his  resting-place  on  a  pile  of  dried  bed- 
ding. '  He's  no  more  than  in  a  powerful  bad  timper 
wid  bein'  put  upon.  I'd  lay  my  kit  he's  new  to  the 
gun-team,  an'  by  natur'  he  hates  haulin'.  Ask  the 
mahout,  sorr.' 

I  hailed  the  old  white-bearded  mahout,  who  was 
lavishing  pet  words  on  his  sulky  red-eyed  charge. 

'  He  is  not  musth,'  the  man  replied  indignantly ; 
*  only  his  honour  has  been  touched.  Is  an  elephant 
an  ox  or  a  mule  that  he  should  tug  at  a  trace  ?  His 
strength  is  in  his  head — Peace,  peace,  my  Lord !  It 
was  not  my  fault  that  they  yoked  thee  this  morn- 
ing ! — Only  a  low-caste  elephant  will  pull  a  gun,  and 
he  is  a  Kumeria  of  the  Doon.  It  cost  a  year  and  the 
life  of  a  man  to  break  him  to  burden.  They  of  the 
Artillery  put  him  in  the  gun-team  because  one  of 
their  base-born  brutes  had  gone  lame.  No  wonder 
that  he  was,  and  is  wrath/ 

'  Rummy !  Most  unusual  rum/  said  Ortheris. 
'  Gawd,  'e  is  in  a  temper,  though !  S'pose  'e  got 
loose ! ' 

Mulvaney  began  to  speak  but  checked  himself, 
and  I  asked  the  mahout  what  would  happen  if  the 
heel- chains  broke. 

'  God  knows,  who  made  elephants,'  he  said  sim- 
ply. '  In  his  now  state  peradventure  he  might  kill 
you  three,  or  run  at  large  till  his  rage  abated.  He 
would  not  kill  me,  except  he  were  musth.  TJien 


52  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

would  he  kill  me  before  any  oiie  in  the  world,  be- 
cause he  loves  me.  Such  is  the  custom  of  the  ele- 
phant-folk; and  the  custom  of  us  mahout-people 
matches  it  for  foolishness.  We  trust  each  our  own 
elephant,  till  our  own  elephant  kills  us.  Other 
castes  trust  women,  but  we  the  elephant-folk.  I 
have  seen  men  deal  with  enraged  elephants  and 
live ;  but  never  was  man  yet  born  of  woman  that 
met  my  lord  the  elephant  in  his  musth  and  lived 
to  tell  of  the  taming.  They  are  enough  bold  who 
meet  him  angry/ 

I  translated.  Then  said  Terence :  '  Ask  the  hea- 
then if  he  iver  saw  a  man  tame  an  elephint, — any- 
ways— a  white  man.' 

*  Once/  said  the  mahout, '  I  saw  a  man  astride  of 
such  a  beast  in  the  town  of  Cawnpore ;  a  bare- 
headed man,  a  white  man,  beating  it  upon  the  head 
with  a  gun.    It  was  said  he  was  possessed  of  devils 
or  drunk.' 

'  Is  ut  like,  think  you,  he'd  be  doin'  it  sober  ? ' 
said  Mulvaney  after  interpretation,  and  the  chained 
elephant  roared. 

*  There's  only  one  man  top  of  earth  that  would 
be  the  partic'lar  kind  o'  sorter  bloomin'   fool    to 
do    it ! '    said    Ortheris.     *  When   was   that,    Mul- 
vaney ? ' 

*  As  the  naygur  sez,  in  Cawnpore ;  an'  I  was  that 
fool — in  the  days  av  my  youth.    But  it  came  about 
as  naturil  as  wan  thing  leads  to  another, — me  an' 


MY   LOED  THE  ELEPHANT.  53 

the  elephint,  and  the  elephint  and  me ;  an'  the  fight 
betune.us  was  the  most  naturil  av  all.' 

'  That's  just  wot  it  would  ha'  been/  said  Orthe- 
ris.  '  Only  you  must  ha'  been  more  than  usual  full. 
You  done  one  queer  trick  with  an  elephant  that  I 
know  of:  why  didn't  you  never  tell  us  the  other 
one?' 

'  Bekase,  onless  you  had  heard  the  naygur  here 
say  what  he  has  said  spontaneous,  you'd  ha'  called 
me  for  a  liar,  Stanley,  my  son,  an'  it  would  ha'  been 
my  juty  an'  my  delight  to  give  you  the  father  an' 
mother  av  a  beltin' !  There's  only  wan  fault  about 
you,  little  man,  an'  that's  thinking  you  know  all 
there  is  in  the  world,  an'  a  little  more.  'Tis  a  fault 
that  has  made  away  wid  a  few  orf'cers  I've  served 
undher,  not  to  spake  av  ivry  man  but  two  that  I 
iver  thried  to  make  into  a  privit.' 

'  Ho ! '  said  Ortheris  with  ruffled  plumes, '  an'  'oo 
was  your  two  bloomin'  little  Sir  Garnets,  eh  ? ' 

*  Wan  was  mesilf,'  said  Mulvaney  with  a  grin 
that  darkness  could  not  hide ;  '  an' — seein'  that  he's 
not  here  there's  no  harm  speakin'  av  him — t'other 
was  Jock.' 

'  Jock's  no  more  than  a  'ayrick  in  trousies.  '  'E 
be'aves  like  one ;  an'  'e  can't  'it  one  at  a  'undred  ;  'e 
was  born  on  one,  an'  s'welp  me  'e'll  die  under  one 
for  not  bein'  able  to  say  wot  'e  wants  in  a  Christian 
lingo,'  said  Ortheris,  jumping  up  from  the  piled  fod- 
der only  to  be  swept  off  his  legs.  Vixen  leaped  upon 


54  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

his  stomach,  and  the  other  dogs  followed  and  sat 
down  there. 

*  I  know  what  Jock  is  like/  I  said.  *  I  want  to 
hear  about  the  elephant,  though.' 

'  It's  another  o'  Mulvaney's  bloomin'  panoramas/ 
said  Ortheris,  gasping  under  the  dogs.  '  'Im  an'  Jock 
for  the  'ole  bloomin'  British  Army !  You'll  be  say  in* 
you  won  Waterloo  next, — you  an'  Jock.  Garn  ! ' 

Neither  of  us  thought  it  worth  while  to  notice 
Ortheris.  The  big  gun-elephant  threshed  and  mut- 
tered in  his  chains,  giving  tongue  now  and  again  in 
crashing  trumpet-peals,  and  to  this  accompaniment 
Terence  went  on:  'In  the  beginnin'/  said  he,  'me 
bein'  what  I  was,  there  was  a  misunderstandin'  wid 
my  sergeant  that  was  then.  He  put  his  spite  on  me 
for  various  reasons/ — 

The  deep-set  eyes  twinkled  above  the  glow  of  the 
pipe-bowl,  and  Ortheris  grunted,  'Another  petti- 
coat!' 

— '  For  various  an'  promiscuous  reasons  ;  an'  the 
upshot  av  it  was  that  he  come  into  barricks  wan 
afternoon  whin'  I  was  settlin'  my  cowlick  before 
goiu'  walkin',  called  me  a  big  baboon  (which  I  was 
not),  an'  a  demoralisin'  beggar  (which  I  was),  an' 
bid  me  go  on  fatigue  thin  an'  there,  helpin'  shift 
E.  P.  tents,  fourteen  av  thim,  from  the  rest-camp. 
At  that,  me  bein'  set  on  my  walk — ' 

'  Ah ! '  from  under  the  dogs, '  'e's  a  Mormon,  Vic. 
Don't  you  'ave  nothin'  to  do  with  'im,  little  dorg.' 


MY  LOED   THE  ELEPHANT.  55 

— '  Set  on  my  walk,  I  tould  him  a  few  things 
that  came  up  in  my  mind,  an'  wan  thing  led  on  to 
another,  an'  betune  talkin'  I  made  time  for  to  hit 
the  nose  av  him  so  that  he'd  be  no  Venus  to  any 
woman  for  a  week  to  come.  'Twas  a  fine  big  nose, 
and  well  ut  paid  for  a  little  groomin'.  Afther  that  I 
was  so  well  pleased  wid  my  handicraftfulness  that  I 
niver  raised  fist  on  the  guard  that  came  to  take  me 
to  Clink.  A  child  might  ha'  led  me  along,  for  I 
knew  uld  Kearney's  nose  was  ruined.  That  summer 
the  Ould  Rig'ment  did  not  use  their  own  Clink, 
bekase  the  cholera  was  hangin'  about  there  like  mil- 
dew on  wet  boots,  an'  'twas  murdher  to  confine  in 
ut.  We  borrowed  the  Clink  that  belonged  to  the 
Holy  Christians  (the  reg'mint  that  has  never  seen 
service  yet),  and  that  lay  a  matther  av  a  mile  away, 
acrost  two  p'rade-grounds  an'  the  main  road,  an'  all 
the  ladies  av  Cawnpore  goin'  out  for  their  afternoon 
dhrive.  So  I  moved  in  the  best  av  society,  my 
shadow  dancin'  along  f orninst  me,  an'  the  gyard  as 
solemn  as  putty,  the  bracelets  on  my  wrists,  an'  my 
heart  full  contint  wid  the  notion  of  Kearney's  pro — 
pro — probosculum  in  a  shling. 

'  In  the  middle  av  ut  all  I  perceived  a  gunner, 
orf'cer  in  full  reg'mentals  perusin'  down  the  road, 
hell-for-leather,  wid  his  mouth  open.  He  fetched 
wan  woild  despairin'  look  on  the  dog-kyarts  an'  the 
polite  society  av  Cawnpore,  an'  thin  he  dived  like  a 
rabbit  into  a  dhrain  by  the  side  av  the  road. 


56  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

'"Bhoys,"  sez  I,  "that  orfcer's  dhrunk.  'Tis 
scand'lus.  Let's  take  him  to  Clink  too." 

'  The  corp'ril  of  the  gyard  made  a  jump  for  me, 
unlocked  my  stringers,  an'  he  sez :  "  If  it  comes  to 
runnin',  run  for  your  life.  If  it  doesn't,  I'll  trust 
your  honour.  Anyways,"  sez  he,  "come  to  Clink 
when  you  can." 

'  Then  I  behild  him  runnin'  wan  way,  stuffin'  the 
bracelets  in  his  pocket,  they  bein'  Gov'ment  prop- 
erty, and  the  gyard  runnin'  another,  an'  all  the  dog- 
kyarts  runnin'  all  ways  to  wanst,  an'  me  alone 
lookin'  down  the  red  bag  av  a  mouth  av  an  elephint 
forty -two  feet  high  at  the  shoulder,  tin  feet  wide, 
wid  tusks  as  long  as  the  Ochterlony  Monumint. 
That  was  my  first  reconnaissance.  Maybe  he  was 
not  quite  so  contagious,  nor  quite  so  tall,  but  I  didn't 
stop  to  throw  out  pickuts.  Mother  av  Hiven,  how  I 
ran  down  the  road  !  The  baste  began  to  investigate 
the  dhrain  wid  the  gunner-orf'cer  in  ut ;  an'  that 
was  the  makin'  av  me.  I  tripped  over  wan  of  the 
rifles  that  my  gyard  had  discarded  (onsoldierly 
blackguards  they  was !),  an*  whin  I  got  up  I  was 
facin'  t'other  way  about  an'  the  elephint  was  huntin' 
for  the  gunner-orf'cer.  I  can  see  his  big  fat  back 
yet.  Excipt  that  he  didn't  dig,  he  car'ied  on  for  all 
the  world  like  little  Vixen  here  at  a  rat-hole.  He 
put  his  head  down  (by  my  sowl  he  nearly  stood  on 
ut !)  to  shquint  down  the  dhrain ;  thin  he'd  grunt, 
and  run  round  to  the  other  ind  in  case  the  orf'cer 


MY    LORD  THE  ELEPHANT.  57 

was  gone  out  by  the  backdoor ;  an'  he'd  shtuff  his 
trunk  down  the  flue  an'  get  ut  filled  wid  mud,  an' 
blow  ut  out,  an'  grunt  an'  swear !  My  troth,  he 
swore  all  hiven  down  upon  that  orf 'cer ;  an'  what  a 
commissariat  elephint  had  to  do  wid  a  gunner- 
orf 'cer  passed  me.  Me  havin'  nowhere  to  go  except 
to  Clink,  I  stud  in  the  road  wid  the  rifle,  a  Snider 
an'  no  amm'nition,  philosophisin'  upon  the  rear  ind 
av  the  animal.  All  round  me,  miles  and  miles,  there 
was  howlin'  desolation,  for  ivry  human  sowl  wid 
two  legs,  or  four  for  the  matther  av  that,  was  am- 
buscadin',  an'  this  ould  rapparee  stud  on  his  head 
tuggin'  an'  gruntin'  above  the  dhrain,  his  tail 
stickin'  up  to  the  sky,  an'  he  thryin'  to  thrumpet 
through  three  feet  av  road-sweepin's  up  his  thrunk. 
Begad,  'twas  wickud  to  behold ! 

'  Subsequint,  he  caught  sight  av  me  standin'  alone 
in  the  wide,  wide  world  lanin'  on  the  rifle.  That 
dishcomposed  him,  bekase  he  thought  I  was  the 
gunner-orf'cer  got  out  unbeknownst.  He  looked 
betune  his  feet  at  the  dhrain,  an'  he  looked  at  me, 
an'  I  sez  to  myself :  "  Terence,  my  son,  you've  been 
watchin'  this  Noah's  ark  too  long.  Run  for  the 
life ! "  Dear  knows  I  wanted  to  tell  him  I  was  only 
a  poor  privit  on  my  way  to  Clink,  an'  no  orf'cer 
at  all,  at  all;  but  he  put  his  ears  forward  av  his 
thick  head,  an'  I  rethreated  down  the  road  grip- 
pin'  the  rifle,  my  back  as  cowld  as  a  tombstone, 
an'  the  slack  av  my  trousies,  where  I  made  sure 


58  MANY  INVENTIONS. 

he'd  take  hould,  crawlin'  wid, — wid  invidjus  appre- 
hension. 

'  I  might  ha'  run  till  I  dhropped,  bekase  I  was 
betune  the  two  straight  lines  av  the  road,  an'  a  man, 
or  a  thousand  men  for  the  matther  av  that,  are 
the  like  av  sheep  in  keepin'  betune  right  an'  left 
marks.' 

'  Same  as  canaries/  said  Ortheris  from  the  dark- 
ness. '  Draw  a  line  on  a  bloomin'  little  board,  put 
their  bloomin'  little  beakses  there,  stay  so  for  hever 
an'  hever,  amen,  they  will.  'Seed  a  'ole  reg'ment,  I 
'ave,  walk  crabways  along  the  edge  of  a  two-foot 
water-cut  'stid  o'  thinkin'  to  cross  it.  Men  is  sheep 
— bloomin'  sheep.  Go  on.' 

'  But  I  saw  his  shadow  wid  the  tail  av  my  eye/ 
continued  the  man  of  experiences,  '  an'  "  Wheel,"  I 
sez,  "Terence,  wheel!"  an'  I  wheeled.  'Tis  truth 
that  I  cud  hear  the  shparks  flyin'  from  my  heels; 
an'  I  shpun  into  the  nearest  compound,  fetched  wan 
jump  from  the  gate  to  the  veranda  av  the  house, 
an'  fell  over  a  tribe  of  naygurs  wid  a  half-caste  boy 
at  a  desk,  all  manufacturin'  harness.  'Twas  Anto- 
nio's Carriage  Emporium  at  Cawnpore.  Ye  know 
ut,  sorr  ? 

'Ould  Grambags  must  ha'  wheeled  abreast  wid 
me,  for  his  trunk  came  lickin'  into  the  veranda  like 
a '  belt  in  a  barrick-room  row,  before  I  was  in  the 
shop.  The  naygurs  an'  the  half-caste  boy  howled 
an'  wint  out  at  the  backdoor,  an'  I  stud  lone  as  Lot's 


MY   LOED   THE  ELEPHANT.  59 

i 

wife  among  the  harness.    A  powerful  thirsty  thing 
is  harness,  by  reason  av  the  smell  to  ut. 

'  I  wint  into  the  back  room,  nobody  bein'  there  to 
invite,  an'  I  found  a  bottle  av  whisky  and  a  goglet 
av  wather.  The  first  an'  the  second  dhrink  I  niver 
noticed  bein'  dhry,  but  the  fourth  an'  the  fifth  tuk 
good  hould  av  me  an'  I  begun  to  think  scornful  av 
elephints.  "  Take  the  -upper  ground  in  manoa'vrin', 
Terence,"  I  sez ;  "  an'  you'll  be  a  gen'ral  yet/'  sez  I. 
An'  wid  that  I  wint  up  to  the  flat  mud  roof  av  the 
house  an'  looked  over  the  edge  av  the  parapit, 
threadin'  delicate.  Ould  Barrel-belly  was  in  the 
compound,  walkin'  to  an'  fro,  pluckin'  a  piece  av 
grass  here  an'  a  weed  there,  for  all  the  world  like 
our  colonel  that  is  now  whin  his  wife's  given  him  a 
talkin'  down  an'  he's  prom'nadin'  to  ease  his  timper. 
His  back  was  to  me,  an'  by  the  same  token  I  hic- 
cupped. He  checked  in  his  walk,  wan  ear  forward 
like  a  deaf  ould  lady  wid  an  ear-thrumpet,  an'  his 
thrunk  hild  out  in  a  kind  av  fore-reaching  hook. 
Thin  he  wagged  his  ear  sayin',  "Do  my  sinses 
deceive  me  ? "  as  plain  as  print,  an'  he  recom- 
minst  promenadin'.  Ye  know  Antonio's  compound  ? 
'Twas  as  full  thin  as  'tis  now  av  new  kyarts  and 
ould  kyarts,  and  second-hand  kyarts  an'  kyarts  for 
hire, — landos,  an'  b'rooshes,  an'  brooms,  and  wag'- 
nettes  av  ivry  description.  Thin  I  hiccupped  again, 
an'  he  began  to  study  the  ground  beneath  him,  his 
tail  whistlin'  wid  emotion.  Thin  he  lapped  his 


60  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

thrunk  round  the  shaft  av  a  wag'nette  an'  dhrew  tit 
out  circumspectuous  an'  thoughtful.  "He's  not 
there,"  he  sez,  fumblin'  in  the  cushions  wid  his 
thrunk.  Thin  I  hiccupped  again,  an'  wid  that  he 
lost  his  patience  good  an'  all,  same  as  this  wan  in 
the  lines  here.' 

The  gun-elephant  was  breaking  into  peal  after 
peal  of  indignant  trumpetings,  to  the  disgust  of  the 
other  animals  who  had  finished  their  food  and 
wished  to  drowse.  Between  the  outcries  we  could 
hear  him  picking  restlessly  at  his  ankle  ring. 

*  As  I  was  sayin','  Mulvaney  went  on,  '  he  be- 
haved dishgraceful.  He  let  out  wid  his  fore-fut 
like  a  steam-hammer,  bein'  convinced  that  I  was 
in  ambuscade  adjacint ;  an'  that  wag'nette  ran  back 
among  the  other  carriages  like  a  field-gun  in  charge. 
Thin  he  hauled  ut  out  again  an'  shuk  ut,  an'  by 
nature  it  came  all  to  little  pieces.  Afther  that  he 
went  sheer  damn,  slam,  dancin',  lunatic,  double- 
shuffle  demented  wid  the  whole  of  Antonio's  shtock 
for  the  season.  He  kicked,  an'  he  straddled,  and  he 
stamped,  an'  he  pounded  all  at  wanst ;  his  big  bald 
head  bobbin'  up  an'  down  solemn  as  a  rigadoon. 
He  tuk  a  new  shiny  broom  an'  kicked  ut  on  wan 
corner,  an'  ut  opened  out  like  a  blossomin'  lily ;  an' 
he  shtuck  wan  fool-foot  through  the  flure  av  ut  an' 
a  wheel  was  shpinnin'  on  his  tusk.  At  that  he  got 
scared,  an',  by  this  an'  that,  he  fair  sat  down  plump 
among  the  carriages,  an'  they  pricked  'im  wid  splin- 


MY   LORD   THE  ELEPHANT.  61 

ters  till  he  was  a  boundin'  pincushin.  In  the  middle 
av  the  mess,  whin  the  kyarts  was  climbin'  wan  on 
top  av  the  other,  an'  rickochettin'  off  the  mud  walls, 
an'  showin'  their  agility,  wid  him  tearin'  their  wheels 
off,  I  heard  the  sound  av  distrestful  wailin'  on  the 
housetops,  an'  the  whole  Antonio  firm  an'  fam'ly 
was  cursin'  me  an'  him  from  the  roof  next  door ;  me 
"bekase  I'd  taken  refuge  wid  them,  and  he  "bekase  he 

was  playin'  shtep-dances  wid  the  carriages  av  the 

.  ,  (Jf- 

aristocracy.  Jff 

' "  Divart  his  attention,"  sez  Antofiio,  dancin'  on 
the  roof  in  his  big  white  waistcoat.  "  Divart  his 
attention,"  he  sez,  "or  I'll  prosecute  you."  An' 
the  whole  fam'ly  shouts,  "Hit  him  a  kick,  mister 
soldier." 

' "  He's  divartin'  himself,"  I  sez,  for  it  was  just 
the  worth  av  a  man's  life  to  go  down  into  the  com- 
pound. But  by  way  av  makin'  show  I  threw  the 
whisky-bottle  ('twas  not  full  whin  I  came  there)  at 
him.  He  shpun  round  from  what  was  left  av  the 
last  kyart,  an'  shtuck  his  head  into  the  veranda  not 
three  feet  below  me.  Maybe  'twas  the  temptin'ness 
av  his  back  or  the  whisky.  Anyways,  the  next  thing 
I  knew  was  me,  wid  my  hands  full  av  mud  an*  mor- 
tar, all  fours  on  his  back,  an'  the  Snider  just  slidin' 
off  the  slope  av  his  head.  I  grabbed  that  an*  scuffled 
on  his  neck,  dhmv  my  knees  undher  his  big  flappin' 
ears,  an'  we  wint  to  glory  out  av  that  compound  wid 
a  shqueal  that  crawled  up  my  back  an'  down  my 


62  MANY  INVENTIONS. 

belly.  Thin  I  remimbered  the  Snider,  an'  I  grup  ut 
by  the  muzzle  an'  hit  him  on  the  head.  'Twas  most 
forlorn,  like — like  tappin'  the  deck  av  a  throopship 
wid  a  cane  to  stop  the  engines  whin  you're  sea-sick. 
But  I  parsevered  till  I  sweated,  an'  at  last  from 
takin'  no  notice  at  all  he  began  to  grunt.  I  hit  wid 
the  full  strength  that  was  in  me  in  those  days,  an'  it 
might  ha'  discommoded  him.  We  came  back  to  the 
p'rade-groun'  forty  mile  an  hour,  thrumpetin'  vain- 
glorious. I  never  stopped  hammerin'  him  for  a 
minut ;  'twas  by  way  av  divartin'  him  from  runnin' 
undher  the  trees  an'  scrapin'  me  off  like  a  poultice. 
The  p'rade-groun'  an'  the  road  was  all  empty,  but 
the  throops  was  on  the  roofs  av  the  barricks,  an' 
betune  Ould  Thrajectory's  gruntin'  an'  mine  (for  I 
was  winded  wid  my  stone-breakin'),  I  heard  them 
clappin'  an'  cheerin'.  He  was  growing  more  con- 
fused an'  tuk  to  runnin'  in  circles. 

' "  Begad,"  sez  I  to  mysilf,  "  there's  dacincy  in  all 
things,  Terence.  'Tis  like  you've  sphlit  his  head,  and 
whin  you  come  out  av  Clink  you'll  be  put  under 
stoppages  for  killin'  a  Gov'mint  elephint."  At  that 
I  caressed  him/ 

'  'Ow  the  devil  did  you  do  that  ?  Might  as  well 
pat  a  barrick/  said  Ortheris. 

*  Thried  all  manner  av  endearin'  epitaphs,  but 
bein*  more  than  a  little  shuk  up  I  disremimbered 
what  the  divil  would  answer  to.  So, "  Good  dog," 
I  sez ;  "  Pretty  puss/'  sez  I ;  "  Whoa  mare,"  I  sez ; 


MY   LOED   THE  ELEPHANT.  63 

an'  at  that  I  fetched  him  a  shtroke  av  the  butt  for  to 
conciliate  him,  and  he  stud  still  among  the  barricks. 

' "  Will  no  one  take  me  off  the  top  av  this  mur- 
derin'  volcano  ?  "  I  sez  at  the  top  av  my  shout,  an'  I 
heard  a  man  yellin',  "  Hould  on,  faith  an'  patience, 
the  other  elephints  are  comin'."  "  Mother  av  Glory," 
I  sez,  "  will  I  rough-ride  the  whole  stud  ?  Come  an' 
take  me  down,  ye  cowards  ! " 

'  Thin  a  brace  av  fat  she-elephints  wid  mahouts 
an'  a  commissariat  sergint  came  shuffling  round  the 
corner  av  the  barricks  ;  an'  the  mahouts  was  abusin' 
Ould  Potiphar's  mother  an'  blood-kin. 

1 "  Obsarve  my  reinforcemints,"  I  sez.  "  They're 
goin'  to  take  you  to  Clink,  my  son ; "  an'  the  child  av 
calamity  put  his  ears  forward  an'  swung  head-on 
to  those  females.  The  pluck  av  him,  af ther  my  ora- 
torio on  his  brain-pan,  wint  to  the  heart  av  me. 
"  I'm  in  dishgrace  mesilf,"  I  sez,  "  but  I'll  do  what  I 
can  for  ye.  Will  ye  go  to  Clink  like  a  man,  or  fight 
like  a  fool  whin  there's  no  chanst  ? "  Wid  that 
I  fetched  him  wan  last  lick  on  the  head,  an*  he 
fetched  a  tremenjus  groan  an'  dhropped  his  thrunk. 
"  Think,"  sez  I  to  him,  an'  "  Halt ! "  I  sez  to  the  ma- 
houts. They  was  anxious  so  to  do.  I  could  feel  the 
ould  reprobit  meditating  under  me.  At  last  he  put 
his  trunk  straight  .out  an'  gave  a  most  melancholius 
toot  (the  like  av  a  sigh  wid  an  elephint) ;  an'  by  that 
I  knew  the  white  flag  was  up  an'  the  rest  was  no 
more  than  considherin'  his  feelin's. 


64  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

' "  He's  done,"  I  sez.  "  Kape  open  ordher  left  an' 
right  alongside.  We'll  go  to  Clink  quiet." 

'  Sez  the  commissariat  sergeant  to  me  from  his 
elephint,  "  Are  you  a  man  or  a  mericle  ?  "  sez  he. 

* "  I'm  betwixt  an'  betune,"  I  sez,  thryin'  to  set 
up  stiff -back.  "An'  what,"  sez  I,  "  may  ha'  set  this 
animal  off  in  this  opprobrious  shtyle  ? "  I  sez,  the 
gun-butt  light  an'  easy  on  my  hip  an'  my  left  hand 
dhropped,  such  as  throopers  behave.  We  was  bowl- 
in'  on  to  the  elephint-lines  under  escort  all  this  time. 

' "  I  was  not  in  the  lines  whin  the  throuble  be- 
gan," sez  the  sergeant.  "  They  tuk  him  off  car'yin' 
tents  an'  such  like,  an'  put  him  to  the  gun-team.  I 
knew  he  would  not  like  ut,  but  by  token  ut  fair  tore 
his  heart  out."  » 

' "  Faith,  wan  man's  meat  is  another's  poison,"  I 
sez.  "  'Twas  bein'  put  on  to  carry  tents  that  was 
the  ruin  av  me."  An'  my  heart  warrumed  to  Ould 
Double  Ends  bekase  he  had  been  put  upon. 

' "  We'll  close  on  him  here,"  sez  the  sergeant, 
whin  we  got  to  the  elephint-lines.  All  the  mahouts 
an'  their  childher  was  round  the  pickets  cursin'  my 
pony  from  a  mile  to  hear.  "  You  skip  off  on  to  my 
elephint's  back,"  he  sez.  "  There'll  be  throuble." 

' "  Sind  that  howlin'  crowd  away,"  I  sez,  "  or  he'll 
thrample  the  life  out  av  thim."  I  cud  feel  his  ears 
beginnin'  to  twitch.  "  An'  do  you  an'  your  immoril 
she-elephints  go  well  clear  away.  I  will  get  down 
here.  He's  an  Irishman,"  I  sez, "for  all  his  long 


MY   LORD   THE  ELEPHANT.  65 

Jew's  nose,  an'  he  shall  be  threated  like  an  Irish- 
man." 

' "  Are  ye  tired  av  life  ?  "  sez  the  sergeant. 

' "  Divil  a  bit/'  I  sez ;  "  but  wan  of  us  has  to  win, 
an'  I'm  av  opinion  'tis  me.  Get  back,"  I  sez. 

'  The  two  elephints  wint  off,  an'  Smith  O'Brine 
came  to  a  halt  dead  above  his  own  pickuts.  "  Down," 
sez  I,  whackin'  him  on  the  head,  an'  down  he  wint, 
shouldher  over  shouldher  like  a  hill-side  slippin' 
afther  rain.  "  Now,"  sez  I,  slidin'  down  his  nose  an' 
runnin'  to  the  front  av  him,  "  you  will  see  the  man 
that's  betther  than  you." 

'  His  big  head  was  down  betune  his  big  forefeet, 
an'  they  was  twisted  in  sideways  like  a  kitten's.  He 
looked  the  picture  av  innocince  an'  forlornsomeness, 
an'  by  this  an'  that  his  big  hairy  undherlip  was 
thremblin',  an'  he  winked  his  eyes  together  to  kape 
from  cryin'.  "  For  the  love  av  God,"  I  sez,  clane 
f orgettin'  he  was  a  dumb  baste ;  "  don't  take  ut  to 
heart  so !  Aisy,  be  aisy,"  I  sez ;  an'  with  that  I 
rubbed  his  cheek  an'  betune  his  eyes  an'  the  top  av 
his  thrunk,  talkin'  all  the  time.  "  Now,"  sez  I,  "  I'll 
make  you  comfortable  for  the  night.  Send  wan  or 
two  childher  here,"  I  sez  to  the  sergeant  who  was 
watchin'  for  to  see  me  killed.  "  He'll  rouse  at  the 
sight  av  a  man." ' 

'You  got  bloomin'  clever  all  of  a  sudden,'  said 
Ortheris.  '  'Ow  did  you  come  to  know  'is  funny 
little  ways  that  soon  ? ' 


66  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

'  Bekase,'  said  Terence  with  emphasis,  '  bekase  I 
had  conquered  the  beggar,  my  son.' 

'  Ho ! '  said  Ortheris  between  doubt  and  derision. 
'  G'on.' 

'  His  mahout's  child  an'  wan  or  two  other  line- 
babies  came  runnin'  up,  not  bein'  afraid  av  any- 
thing, an'  some  got  wather,  an'  I  washed  the  top  av 
his  poor  sore  head,  (begad,  I  had  done  him  to  a  turn !) 
an'  some  picked  the  pieces  av  carts  out  av  his  hide, 
an'  we  scraped  him,  an'  handled  him  all  over,  an'  we 
put  a  thunderin'  big  poultice  av  neem-leaves  (the 
same  that  ye  stick  on  a  pony's  gall)  on  his  head,  an' 
it  looked  like  a  smokin'-cap,  an'  we  put  a  pile  av 
young  sugar-cane  forninst  him,  an'  he  began  to  pick 
at  ut.  "  Now,"  sez  I,  settin'  down  on  his  fore-foot, 
"  we'll  have  a  dhrink,  an'  let  bygones  be."  I  sent  a 
naygur-child  for  a  quart  av  arrack,  an'  the  ser- 
geant's wife  she  sint  me  out  four  fingers  av  whisky, 
an'  whin  the  liquor  came  I  cud  see  by  the  twinkle 
in  Ould  Typhoon's  eye  that  he  was  no  more  a  stran- 
ger to  ut  than  me, — worse  luck,  than  me!  So 
he  tuk  his  quart  like  a  Christian,  an'  thin  I  put 
his  shackles  on,  chained  him  fore  an'  aft  to  the 
pickuts,  an'  gave  him  my  blessin',  an'  wint  back  to 
barricks/ 

'  And  after  ? '  I  said  in  the  pause. 

'  Ye  can  guess/  said  Mulvaney.  '  There  was  con- 
fusion, an'  the  colonel  gave  me  ten  rupees,  an'  the 
adj'tant  gave  me  five,  an'  my  comp'ny  captain  gave 


MY    LORD   THE  ELEPHANT.  67 

me  five,  an'  the  men  carried  me  round  the  barricks 
shoutin'.' 

'  Did  you  go  to  Clink  ? '  said  Ortheris. 

'  I  niver  heard  a  word  more  about  the  misun- 
dherstandin'  wid  Kearney's  beak,  if  that's  what  you 
mane ;  but  sev'ril  av  the  bhoys  was  tuk  off  sudden 
to  the  Holy  Christians'  Hotel  that  night.  Small 
blame  to  thim, — they  had  twenty  rupees  in  dhrinks. 
I  wint  to  lie  down  an'  sleep  ut  off,  for  I  was  as  done 
an'  double  done  as  him  there  in  the  lines.  'Tis  no 
small  thing  to  go  ride  elephants. 

'  Subsequint,  me  an'  the  Venerable  Father  av  Sin 
became  mighty  friendly.  I  wud  go  down  to  the 
lines,  whin  I  was  in  dishgrace,  an'  spend  an  afther- 
noon  collogin'  wid  him ;  he  chewin'  wan  stick  av 
sugar-cane  an'  me  another,  as  thick  as  thieves. 
He'd  take  all  I  had  out  av  my  pockets  an'  put 
ut  back  again,  an'  now  an'  thin  I'd  bring  him 
beer  for  his  dijistin',  an'  I'd  give  him  advice  about 
bein'  well  behaved  an'  keepin'  off  the  books.  Af- 
ther  that  he  wint  the  way  av  the  Army,  an'  that's 
bein'  thransferred  as  soon  as  you've  made  a  good 
friend/ 

'  So  you  never  saw  him  again  ? '  I  demanded. 

'  Do  you  believe  the  first  half  av  the  affair  ? ' 
said  Terence. 

'  I'll  wait  till  Learoyd  comes,'  I  said  evasively. 
Except  when  he  was  carefully  tutored  by  the  other 
two  and  the  immediate  money-benefit  explained, 


68  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

the  Yorkshireman  did  not  tell  lies ;  and  Terence,  I 
knew,  had  a  profligate  imagination. 

'  There's  another  part  still/  said  Mulvaney.  '  Or- 
theris  was  in  that.' 

'  Then  I'll  believe  it  all/  I  answered,  not  from 
any  special  belief  in  Ortheris's  word,  but  from  de- 
sire to  learn  the  rest.  He  stole  a  pup  from  me  once 
when  our  acquaintance  was  new,  and  with  the  little 
beast  stifling  under  his  overcoat,  denied  not  only 
the  theft,  but  that  he  ever  was  interested  in  dogs. 

'  That  was  at  the  beginnin'  av  the  Afghan  busi- 
ness/ said  Mulvaney;  'years  afther  the  men  that 
had  seen  me  do  the  thrick  was  dead  or  gone  home. 
I  came  not  to  speak  av  ut  at  the  last  bekase, — be- 
kase  I  do  not  care  to  knock  the  face  av  ivry  man 
that  calls  me  a  liar.  At  the  very  beginnin'  av  the 
marchin'  I  wint  sick  like  a  fool.  I  had  a  boot-gall, 
but  I  was  all  for  keepin'  up  wid  the  rig'mint  and 
such  like  foolishness.  So  I  finished  up  wid  a  hole 
in  my  heel  that  you  cud  ha'  dhruv  a  tent-peg  into. 
Faith,  how  often  have  I  preached  that  to  recruities 
since,  for  a  warnin'  to  thim  to  look  afther  their 
feet !  Our  docthor,  who  knew  our  business  as  well 
as  his  own,  he  sez  to  me,  in  the  middle  av  the  Tangi 
Pass  ut  was :  "  That's  sheer  damned  carelessness,"  sez 
he.  "  How  often  have  I  tould  you  that  a  marchin' 
man  is  no  stronger  than  his  feet, — his  feet, — his 
feet ! "  he  sez.  "  Now  to  hospital  you  go,"  he  sez, 
"  for  three  weeks,  an  expense  to  your  Quane  an'  a 


MY   LORD   THE   ELEPHANT.  69 

nuisince  to  your  counthry.  Next  time/'  sez  he, 
"  perhaps  you'll  put  some  av  the  whisky  you  pour 
down  your  throat,  an'  some  av  the  tallow  you  put 
into  your  hair,  into  your  socks,"  sez  he.  Faith  he 
was  a  just  man !  So  soon  as  we  come  to  the  head 
av  the  Tangi  I  wint  to  hospital,  hoppin'  on  wan 
fut,  woild  wid  disappointment.  'Twas  a  field-hos- 
pital (all  flies  an'  native  apothecaries  an'  liniment) 
dhropped,  in  a  way  av  speakin',  close  by  the  head  av 
the  Tangi.  The  hospital-gyard  was  ravin'  mad  wid 
us  sick  for  keepin'  thim  there,  an'  we  was  ravin' 
mad  at  bein'  kept ;  an'  through  the  Tangi,  day  an' 
night  an'  night  an'  day,  the  fut  an'  horse  an'  guns 
an'  commissariat  an'  tents  an'  followers  av  the  bri- 
gades was  pourin'  like  a  coffee-mill.  The  doolies 
came  dancin'  through,  scores  an'  scores  av  thim, 
an'  they'd  turn  up  the  hill  to  hospital  wid  their  sick, 
an'  I  lay  in  bed  nursin'  my  heel,  an'  hearin'  the  men 
bein'  tuk  out.  I  remimber  wan  night  (the  time  I 
was  tuk  wid  fever)  a  man  came  rowlin'  through  the 
tents  an',  "  Is  there  any  room  to  die  here  ?  "  he  sez  ; 
"there's  none  wid  the  columns";  an'  at  that  he 
dropped  dead  acrost  a  cot,  an'  thin  the  man  in  ut 
began  to  complain  against  dyin'  all  alone  in  the 
dust  undher  dead  men.  Thin  I  must  ha'  turned  mad 
wid  the  fever,  an'  for  a  week  I  was  prayin'  the 
saints  to  stop  the  noise  av  the  columns  moviii' 
through  the  Tangi.  Gun-wheels  ut  was  that  wore 
my  head  thin.  Ye  know  how  'tis-  wid  fever  ? ' 


70  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

We  nodded ;  there  was  no  need  to  explain. 

'  Gun- wheels  an'  feet  an'  people  shoutin',  but 
mostly  gun-wheels.  'Twas  neither  night  nor  day 
to  me  for  a  week.  In  the  mornin'  they'd  rowl  up 
the  tent-flies,  and  we  sick  cud  look  at  the  Pass  an' 
considher  what  was  comin'  next.  Horse,  fut,  or 
guns,  they'd  be  sure  to  dhrop  wan  or  two  sick  wid 
us  an'  we'd  get  news.  Wan  mornin'  whin  the  fever 
hild  off  av  me,  I  was  watchin'  the  Tangi,  an'  'twas 
just  like  the  picture  on  the  backside  av  the  Afghan 
medal, — men  an'  elephints  an'  guns  comin'  wan  at  a 
time  crawlin'  out  of  a  dhrain.' 

'  It  were  a  dhrain/  said  Ortheris  with  feeling.  '  I've 
fell  out  an'  been  sick  in  the  Tangi  twice;  an'  wot 
turns  my  innards  ain't  no  bloomin'  violets  neither.' 

'  The  Pass  give  a  twist  at  the  end,  so  everything 
shot  out  suddint  an'  they'd  built  a  throop-bridge 
(mud  an'  dead  mules)  over  a  nullah  at  the  head  av 
ut.  I  lay  an'  counted  the  elephints  (gun-elephints) 
thryin'  the  bridge  wid  their  thrunks  an'  rowlin'  out 
sagacious.  The  fifth  elephint's  head  came  round  the 
corner,  an'  he  threw  up  his  thrunk,  an'  he  fetched 
a  toot,  an'  there  he  shtuck  at  the  head  of  the  Tangi 
like  a  cork  in  a  bottle.  "  Faith,"  thinks  I  to  my- 
silf, "  he  will  not  thrust  the  bridge ;  there  will  be 
throuble." ' 

'  Trouble  !  My  Gawd  ! '  said  Ortheris.  '  Terence, 
I  was  be'ind  that  bloomin'  'uttee  up  to  my  stock  in 
dust.  Trouble!*  • 


MY   LORD   THE  ELEPHANT.  71 

'Tell  on  then,  little  man;  I  only  saw  the  hos- 
pital end  av  ut.'  Mulvaney  knocked  the  ashes  out 
of  his  pipe,  as  Ortheris  heaved  the  dogs  aside  and 
w^fet  on. 

'  We  was  escort  to  them  guns,  three  comp'nies  of 
us/  he  said.  '  Dewcy  was  our  major,  an'  our  orders 
was  to  roll  up  anything  we  come  across  in  the  Tangi 
an'  shove  it  out  t'other  end.  Sort  o'  pop-gun  picnic, 
see  ?  We'd  rolled  up  a  lot  o'  lazy  beggars  o'  native 
followers,  an'  some  commissariat  supplies  that  was 
bivoo-whackin'  for  ever  seemin'ly,  an'  all  the  sweep- 
in's  of  'arf  a  dozen  things  what  ought  to  'ave  bin 
at  the  front  weeks  ago,  an'  Dewcy,  he  sez  to  us : 
"You're  most  'eart-breakin'  sweeps,"  'e  sez.  "For 
'eving's  sake,"  sez  'e,  "  do  a  little  sweepin'  now."  So 
we  swep', — s'welp  me,  'ow  we  did  sweep  'em  along ! 
There  was  a  full  reg'ment  be'ind  us ;  most  anxious 
to  get  on  they  was ;  an'  they  kep'  on  sendin'  to  us 
with  the  colonel's  compliments,  and  what  in  'ell  was 
we  stoppin'  the  way  for,  please  ?  Oh,  they  was  par- 
tic'lar  polite !  So  was  Dewcy !  'E  sent  'em  back 
wot-for,  an'  'e  give  us  wot-for,  an'  we  give  the  guns 
wot-for,  an'  they  give  the  commissariat  wot-for,  an' 
the  commissariat  give  first-class  extry  wot-for  to 
the  native  followers,  an'  on  we'd  go  again  till  we 
was  stuck,  an'  the  'ole  Pass  'ud  be  swimmin'  Alle- 
lujah  for  a  mile  an'  a  'arf.  We  'adn't  no  tempers, 
nor  no  seats  to  our  trousies,  an'  our  coats  an'  our 
rifles  was  chucked  in  the  carts,  so  as  we  might  ha'  been 


72  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

cut  up  any  minute,  an'  we  was  doin'  drover-work. 
That  was  wot  it  was ;  drovin'  on  the  Isliii'ton  road  ! 

'  I  was  close  up  at  the  'ead  of  the  column  when 
we  saw  the  end  of  the  Tangi  openin'  out  ahead  of  us, 
an'  I  sez :  "  The  door's  open,  boys.  'Oo'll  git  to  the 
gall'ry  fust  ? "  I  sez.  Then  I  saw  Dewcy  screwin' 
'is  bloomin'  eyeglass  in  'is  eye  an'  lookin'  straight 
on.  "Propped, — ther  beggar!"  he  sez;  an'  the  be- 
'ind  end  o'  that  bloomin'  old  'uttee  was  shinin' 
through  the  dusk  like  a  bloomin'  old  moon  made  o' 
tarpaulin.  Then  we  'alted,  all  chock-a-block,  one 
atop  o'  the  other,  an'  right  at  the  back  o'  the  guns 
there  sails  in  a  lot  o'  silly  grinnin'  camels,  what  the 
commissariat  was  in  charge  of — sailin'  away  as  if 
they  was  at  the  Zoological  Gardens  an'  squeezin' 
our  men  most  awful.  The  dust  was  that  up  you 
couldn't  see  your  'and ;  an'  the  more  we  'it  'em  on 
the  'ead  the  more  their  drivers  sez,  "Accha!  Ac- 
cha!"  an'  by  Gawd  it  was  "at  yer"  before  you 
knew  where  you  was!  An'  that  'uttee's  be'ind  end 
stuck  in  the  Pass  good  an'  tight,  an'  no  one  knew 
wot  for. 

'  Fust  thing  we  'ad  to  do  was  to  fight  they  bloom- 
in'  camels.  I  wasn't  goin'  to  be  eat  by  no  bull-oon<; 
so  I  'eld  up  my  trousies  with  one  'and,  standin'  on  a 
rock,  an'  'it  away  with  my  belt  at  every  nose  I  saw 
bobbin'  above  me.  Then  the  camels  fell  back,  an* 
they  'ad  to  fight  to  keep  the  rear-guard  an'  the  na- 
tive followers  from  crushin'  into  them ;  an'  the  rear- 


MY   LOKD   THE  ELEPHANT.  73 

guard  'ad  to  send  down  the  Tangi  to  warn  the  other 
reg'ment  that  we  was  blocked.  I  'eard  the  mahouts 
shoutin'  in  front  that  the  'uttee  wouldn't  cross  the 
bridge  ;  an'  I  saw  Dewcy  skippin'  about  through  the 
dust  like  a  musquito  worm  in  a  tank.  Then  our 
comp'nies  got  tired  o'  waitin'  an'  begun  to  mark 
time,  an'  some  goat  struck  up  Tommy,  make  room 
for  your  Uncle.  After  that,  you  couldn't  neither 
see  nor  breathe  nor  'ear ;  an'  there  we  was,  singin' 
bloomin'  serenades  to  the  end  of  a'  elephant  that 
don't  care  for  tunes !  I  sung  too ;  I  couldn't  do 
nothin'  else.  They  was  strengthenin'  the  bridge  in 
front,  all  for  the  sake  of  the  'uttee.  By  an'  by,  a' 
orf 'cer  caught  me  by  the  throat  an'  choked  the  sing 
out  of  me.  So  I  caught  the  next  man  I  could  see  by 
the  throat  an'  choked  the  sing  out  of  'im.' 

'  What's  the  difference  between  being  choked  by 
an  officer  and  being  hit  ? '  I  asked,  remembering  a 
little  affair  in  which  Ortheris's  honour  had  been  in- 
jured by  his  lieutenant. 

1  One's  a  bloomin'  lark,  an'  one's  a  bloomin'  in- 
sult!' said  Ortheris.  '  Besides,  we  was  on  service, 
an'  no  one  cares  what  an  orf'cer  does  then,  s'long  as 
'e  gets  our  rations  an'  don't  get  us  unusual  cut  up. 
After  that  we  got  quiet,  an'  I  'eard  Dewcy  say  that 
'e'd  court-martial  the  lot  of  us  soon  as  we  was  out 
of  the  Tangi.  Then  we  give  three  cheers  for  Dewcy 
an'  three  more  for  the  Tangi ;  an'  the  'uttee's  be- 
'ind  end  was  stickin'  in  the  Pass,  so  we  cheered  that. 


74  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

Then  they  said  the  bridge  had  been  strengthened, 
an'  we  give  three  cheers  for  the  bridge ;  but  the 
'uttee  wouldn't  move  a  bloomin'  hinch.  Not  'im ! 
Then  we  cheered  'im  again,  an'  Kite  Dawson,  that 
was  corner-man  at  all  the  sing-songs  ('e  died  on  the 
way  down)  began  to  give  a  nigger  lecture  on  the 
be'ind  ends  of  elephants,  an'  Dewcy,  'e  tried  to  keep 
'is  face  for  a  minute,  but,  Lord,  you  couldn't  do  such 
when  Kite  was  playin'  the  fool  an'  askin'  whether  'e 
mightn't  'ave  leave  to  rent  a  villa  an'  raise  'is  orphan 
children  in  the  Tangi,  'cos  'e  couldn't  get  'ome  no 
more.  Then  up  come  a  orf'cer  (mounted  like  a  fool, 
too)  from  the  reg'ment  at  the  back  with  some  more 
of  his  colonel's  pretty  little  compliments,  ah'  what 
was  this  delay,  please.  We  sung  'im  There's  another 
bloomin'  row  downstairs  till  'is  'orse  bolted,  an'  then 
we  give  'im  three  cheers ;  an'  Kite  Dawson  sez  'e 
was  goin'  to  write  to  The  Times  about  the  awful 
state  o'  the  streets  in  Afghanistan.  The  'uttee's 
be'ind  end  was  stickin'  in  the  Pass  all  the  time.  At 
last  one  o'  the  mahouts  came  to  Dewcy  an'  sez  some- 
thing. "Oh  Lord!"  sez  Dewcy,  "I don't  know  the 
beggar's  visiting-list !  I'll  give  'im  another  ten  min- 
utes an'  then  I'll  shoot  'im."  Things  was  gettin' 
pretty  dusty  in  the  Tangi,  so  we  all  listened.  "  'E 
wants  to  see  a  friend,"  sez  Dewcy  out  loud  to  the 
men,  an'  'e  mopped  'is  forehead  an'  sat  down  on  a 
gun-tail. 

'I  leave  it  to  you  to  judge  'ow  the  reg'ment 


MY   LORD  THE  ELEPHANT.  75 

shouted.  "  That's  all  right,"  we  sez.  "  Three  cheers 
for  Mister  Winterbottom's  friend,"  sez  we.  "  Why 
didn't  you  say  so  at  first  ?  Pass  the  word  for  old 
Swizzletail's  wife," — and  such  like.  Some  o'  the 
men  they  didn't  laugh.  They  took  it  same  as  if  it 
might  have  been  a'  introduction  like,  'cos  they  knew 
about  'uttees.  Then  we  all  run  forward  over  the 
guns  an'  in  an'  out  among  the  elephants'  legs, — 
Lord,  I  wonder  'arf  the  comp'nies  wasn't  squashed — 
an'  the  next  thing  I  saw  was  Terence  'ere,  lookin' 
like  a  sheet  o'  wet  paper,  comin'  down  the  'illside 
wid  a  sergeant.  "  'Strewth,"  I  sez.  "  I  might  ha' 
knowed  'e'd  be  at  the  bottom  of  any  cat's  trick,"  sez 
I.  Now  you  tell  wot  'appened  your  end  ? ' 

'  I  lay  be  the  same  as  you  did,  little  man,  listenin' 
to  the  noises  an'  the  bhoys  singin'.  Prisintly  I 
heard  whishperin'  an'  the  doctor  saying  "  Get  out  av 
this,  wakin'  my  sick  wid  your  jokes  about  elephints." 
An'  another  man  sez,  all  angry :  "  Tis  a  joke  that  is 
stoppin'  two  thousand  men  in  the  Tangi.  That  son 
av  sin  av  a  haybag  av  an  elephint  sez,  or  the  ma- 
houts sez  for  him,  that  he  wants  to  see  a  friend,  an' 
he'll  not  lift  hand  or  fut  till  he  finds  him.  I'm 
wore  out  wid  inthrojucin'  sweepers  an'  coolies  to 
him,  an'  his  hide's  as  full  o'  bay'net  pricks  as  a  mus- 
quito-net  av  holes,  an'  I'm  here  undher  ordhers,  doc- 
ther  dear,  to  ask  if  any  one,  sick  or  well,  or  alive  or 
dead,  knows  an  elephint.  I'm  not  mad,"  he  sez, 
settin'  on  a  box  av  medical  comforts.  "  'Tis  my 


76  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

ordhers,  an'  'tis  my  mother,"  he  sez,  "  that  would 
laugh  at  me  for  the  father  av  all  fools  to-day.  Does 
any  wan  here  know  an  elephint  ?  "  We  sick  was  all 
quiet. 

' "  Now  you've  had  your  answer,"  sez  the  doctor. 
"  Go  away." 

' "  Hould  on,"  I  sez,  thinkin'  mistiways  in  my  cot, 
an'  I  did  not  know  my  own  voice.  "  I'm  by  way  av 
bein'  acquaint  wid  an  elephint,  mysilf,"  I  sez. 

' "  That's  delirium,"  sez  the  doctor.  "  See  what 
you've  done,  sergeant.  Lie  down,  man,"  he  sez, 
seein'  me  thryin'  to  get  up. 

* "  'Tis  not,"  I  sez.  "  I  rode  him  round  Cawnpore 
barricks.  He  will  not  ha'  forgotten.  I  bruk  his 
head  wid  a  rifle." 

' "  Mad  as  a  coot,"  sez  the  doctor,  an*  thin  he 
felt  my  head.  "It's  quare,"  sez  he.  "Man,"  he 
sez,  "if  you  go,  d'you  know  'twill  either  kill  or 
cure?" 

'"What  do  I  care?"  sez  I.  "If  I'm  mad,  'tis 
better  dead." 

'"Faith,  that's  sound  enough,"  sez  the  doctor. 
"  You've  no  fever  on  you." 

'"Come  on,"  sez  the  sergeant.  "We're  all  mad 
to-day,  an'  the  throops  are  wantin'  their  dinner." 
He  put  his  arm  round  av  me  an'  I  came  into  the 
sun,  the  hills  an'  the  rocks  skippin'  big  giddy-go- 
rounds,  "  Seventeen  years  have  I  been  in  the  army," 
sez  the  sergeant,  "  an'  the  days  av  mericles  are  not 


MY   LORD  THE  ELEPHANT.  77 

done.  They'll  be  givin'  us  more  pay  next.  Begad/' 
he  sez,  "  the  brute  knows  you ! " 

'  Ould  Obstructionist  was  screamin'  like  all  pos- 
sist  whin  I  came  up,  an'  I  heard  forty  million  men 
up  the  Tangi  shoutin',  "  He  knows  him ! "  Thin  the 
big  thrunk  came  round  me  an'  I  was  nigh  fainting 
wid  weakness.  "  Are  you  well,  Malachi  ? "  I  sez, 
givin'  him  the  name  he  answered  to  in  the  lines. 
"  Malachi,  my  son,  are  you  well  ?  "  sez  I,  "  for  I  am 
not."  At  that  he  thrumpted  again  till  the  Pass 
rang  to  ut,  an'  the  other  elephints  tuk  it  up.  Thin  I 
got  a  little  strength  back.  "  Down,  Malachi,"  I  sez, 
"  an*  put  me  up,  but  touch  me  tendher  for  I  am  not 
good."  He  was  on  his  knees  in  a  minut  an'  he  slung 
me  up  as  gentle  as  a  girl.  "  Go  on  now,  my  son,"  I 
sez.  •"  You're  blockin'  the  road."  He  fetched  wan 
more  joyous  toot,  an'  swung  grand  out  av  the  head 
av  the  Tangi,  his  gun-gear  clankin'  on  his  back ;  an' 
at  the  back  av  him  there  wint  the  most  amazin' 
shout  I  iver  heard.  An'  thin  I  felt  my  head  shpin, 
an'  a  mighty  sweat  bruk  out  on  me,  an'  Malachi 
was  growin'  taller  an*  taller  to  me  settin'  on  his 
back,  an'  I  sez,  foolish  like  an'  weak,  smilin'  all 
round  an'  about,  "Take  me  down,"  I  sez,  "or  I'll 
fall." 

'  The  next  I  remimber  was  lyin'  in  my  cot  again, 
limp  as  a  chewed  rag  but  cured  of  the  fever,  an'  the 
Tangi  as  empty  as  the  back  av  my  hand.  They'd  all 
gone  up  to  the  front,  an'  ten  days  later  I  wint  up 


78  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

too;  havin'  blocked  an'  unblocked  an  entire  army 
corps.  What  do  you  think  av  ut,  sorr  ?' 

'  I'll  wait  till  I  see  Learoyd/  I  repeated. 

'Ah'm.  here/  said  a  shadow  from  among  the 
shadows.  '  Ah've  heerd  t'  tale  too/ 

'  Is  it  true,  Jock  ? ' 

'  Ay ;  true  as  t'owd  bitch  has  getten  t'  mange. 
Orth'ris,  yo'  maun't  let  t'dawgs  hev  owt  to  do  wi* 
her/ 


ONE  VIEW  OF  THE  QUESTION. 

From  Shqfiz  Ullah  Khan,  son  of  Hyat  Ullah  Khan, 
in  the  honoured  service  of  His  Highness  the  Rao 
Sahib  of  Jagesur,  which  is  in  the  northern 
borders  of  Hindustan,  and  Orderly  to  his  High- 
ness, this  to  Kazi  Jamal-ud-Din,  son  of  Kazi 
Ferisht  ud  Din  Khan,  in  the  service  of  the  Rao 
Sahib,  a  minister  much  honoured.  From  that 
place  which  they  call  the  Northbrook  Club,  in  the 
town  of  London,  under  the  shadow  of  the  Em- 
press, it  is  written  : 

BETWEEN  brother  and  chosen  brother  be  no  long 
protestations  of  Love  arid  Sincerity.  Heart 
speaks  naked  to  Heart,  and  the  Head  answers 
for  all.  Glory  and  Honour  on  thy  house  till  the 
ending  of  the  years  and  a  tent  in  the  borders  of 
Paradise. 

MY  BROTHER, — In  regard  to  that  for  which  I  was 
despatched  follows  the  account.  I  have  purchased 
for  the  Rao  Sahib,  and  paid  sixty  pounds  in  every 
hundred,  the  things  he  most  desired.  Thus,  two  of 
the  great  fawn-coloured  tiger-dogs,  male  and  female, 

Copyright,  1893,  by  D.  Appleton  &  Co. 


80  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

their  pedigree  being  written  upon  paper,  and  silver 
collars  adorning  their  necks.  For  the  Rao  Sahib's 
greater  pleasure  I  send  them  at  once  by  the  steamer, 
in  charge  of  a  man  who  will  render  account  of  them 
at  Bombay  to  the  bankers  there.  They  are  the  best 
of  all  dogs  in  this  place.  Of  guns  I  have  bought  five 
— two  silver-sprigged  in  the  stock,  with  gold  scroll- 
work about  the  hammer,  both  double-barrelled, 
hard-striking,  cased  in  velvet  and  red  leather;  three 
of  unequalled  workmanship, but  lacking  adornment; 
a  pump-gun  that  fires  fourteen  times — this  when  the 
Rao  Sahib  drives  pig ;  a  double-barrelled  shell-gun 
for  tiger,  and  that  is  a  miracle  of  workmanship ;  and 
a  fowling-piece  no  lighter  than  a  feather,  with  green 
and  blue  cartridges  by  the  thousand.  Also  a  very 
small  rifle  for  blackbuck,  that  yet  would  slay  a  man 
at  four  hundred  paces.  The  harness  with  the  golden 
crests  for  the  Rao  Sahib's  coach  is  not  yet  complete, 
by  reason  of  the  difficulty  of  lining  the  red  velvet 
into  leather;  but  the  two-horse  harness  and  the 
great  saddle  with  the  golden  holsters  that  is  for 
state  use  have  been  put  with  camphor  into  a  tin  box, 
and  I  have  signed  it  with  my  ring.  Of  the  grained- 
leather  case  of  women's  tools  and  tweezers  for  the 
hair  and  beard,  of  the  perfumes  and  the  silks,  and 
all  that  was  wanted  by  the  women  behind  the 
curtains,  I  have  no  knowledge.  They  are  matters  of 
long  coming,  and  the  hawk-bells,  hoods,  and  jesses 
with  the  golden  lettering  are  as  much  delayed  as 


ONE  VIEW   OF  THE  QUESTION.  81 

they.  Read  this  in  the  Rao  Sahib's  ear,  and  speak 
of  my  diligence  and  zeal,  that  favour  may  not  be 
abated  by  absence,  and  keep  the  eye  of  constraint 
upon  that  jesting  dog  without  teeth — Bahadur  Shah 
— for  by  thy  aid  and  voice,  and  what  I  have  done  in 
regard  to  the  guns,  I  look,  as  thou  knowest,  for  the 
headship  of  the  army  of  Jagesur.  That  conscience- 
less one  desires  it  also,  and  I  have  heard  that  the 
Rao  Sahib  leans  thatward.  Have  ye  done,  then, 
with  the  drinking  of  wine  in  your  house,  my 
brother,  or  has  Bahadur  Shah  become  a  fors wearer 
of  brandy  ?  I  would  not  that  drink  should  end  him, 
but  the  well-mixed  draught  leads  to  madness.  Con- 
sider. 

And  now  in  regard  to  this  land  of  the  Sahibs, 
follows  that  thou  hast  demanded.  God  is  my  wit- 
ness that  I  have  striven  to  understand  all  that  I  saw 
and  a  little  of  what  I  heard.  My  words  and  inten- 
tion are  those  of  truth,  yet  it  may  be  that  I  write  of 
nothing  but  lies. 

Since  the  first  wonder  and  bewilderment  of  my 
beholding  is  gone — we  note  the  jewels  in  the  ceiling- 
dome,  but  later  the  filth  on  the  floor — I  see  clearly 
that  this  town,  London,  which  is  as  large  as  all 
Jagesur,  is  accursed,  being  dark  and  unclean,  devoid 
of  sun,  and  full  of  low-born,  who  are  perpetually 
drunk,  and  howl  in  the  streets  like  jackals,  men  and 
women  together.  At  nightfall  it  is  the  custom  of 
countless  thousands  of  women  to  descend  into  the 


82  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

streets  and  sweep  them,  roaring,  making  jests,  and 
demanding  liquor.  At  the  hour  of  this  attack  it  is 
the  custom  of  the  householders  to  take  their  wives 
and  children  to  the  playhouses  and  the  places  of  en- 
tertainment; evil  and  good  thus  returning  home 
together  as  do  kine  from  the  pools  at  sundown.  I 
have  never  seen  any  sight  like  this  sight  in  all  the 
world,  and  I  doubt  that  a  double  is  to  be  found  on 
the  hither  side  of  the  gates  of  Hell.  Touching  the 
mystery  of  their  craft,  it  is  an  ancient  one,  but  the 
householders  assemble  in  herds,  being  men  and 
women,  and  cry  aloud  to  their  God  that  it  is  not 
there ;  the  said  women  pounding  at  the  doors  with- 
out. Moreover,  upon  the  day  when  they  go  to  prayer 
the  drink-places  are  only  opened  when  the  mosques 
are  shut ;  as  who  should  dam  the  Jumna  river  for 
Friday  only.  Therefore  the  men  and  women,  being 
forced  to  accomplish  their  desires  in  the  shorter 
space,  become  the  more  furiously  drunk,  and  roll  in 
the  gutter  together.  They  are  there  regarded  by 
those  going  to  pray.  Further,  and  for  visible  sign 
that  the  place  is  forgotten  of  God,  there  falls  upon 
certain  days,  without  warning,  a  cold  darkness, 
whereby  the  sun's  light  is  altogether  cut  off  from  all 
the  city  and  the  people,  male  and  female,  and  the 
drivers  of  the  vehicles  grope  and  howl  in  this  Pit  at 
high  noon,  none  seeing  the  -other.  The  air  being 
filled  with  the  smoke  of  Hell — sulphur  and  pitch  as 
it  is  written — they  die  speedily  with  gaspings,  and 


ONE  VIEW   OP  THE   QUESTION.  83 

so  are  buried  in  the  dark.  This  is  a  terror  beyond 
the  pen,  but  by  my  hand  I  write  of  what  I  have 
seen ! 

It  is  not  true  that  the  Sahibs  worship  one  God,  as 
do  we  of  the  Faith,  or  that  the  differences  in  their 
creed  be  like  those  now  running  between  Shiah  and 
Sunni.  I  am  but  a  fighting  man,  and  no  darvesh, 
caring,  as  thou  knowest,  as  much  for  Shiah  as  Sunni. 
But  I  have  spoken  to  many  people  of  the  nature  of 
their  Gods.  One  there  is  who  is  the  head  of  the 
Mukht-i-Fauj,*  and  he  is  worshipped  by  men  in 
blood-red  clothes,  who  shout  and  become  without 
sense.  Another  is  an  image,  before  whom  they  burn 
candles  and  incense  in  just  such  a  place  as  I  have 
seen  when  I  went  to  Rangoon  to  buy  Burma  ponies 
for  the  Rao.  Yet  a  third  has  naked  altars  facing  a 
great  assembly  of  dead.  To  him  they  sing  chiefly ; 
and  for  others  there  is  a  woman  who  was  the  mother 
of  the  great  prophet  that  was  before  Mahommed. 
The  common  folk  have  no  God,  but  worship  those 
who  may  speak  to  them  hanging  from  the  lamps  in 
the  street.  The  most  wise  people  worship  themselves 
and  such  things  as  they  have  made  with  their  mouths 
and  their  hands,  and  this  is  to  be  found  notably 
among  the  barren  women,  of  whom  there  are  many. 
Thou  wilt  not  believe  this,  my  brother.  Nor  did  I 
when  I  was  first  told,  but  now  it  is  nothing  to  me ; 

*  Salvation  Army. 


84  MANY  INVENTIONS. 

so  greatly  lias  the  foot  of  travel  let  out  the  stirrup- 
holes  of  belief. 

But  thou  wilt  say, '  What  matter  to  us  whether 
Ahmed's  beard  or  Mahmud's  be  the  longer !  Speak 
what  thou  canst  of  the  Accomplishment  of  Desire.' 
Would  that  thou  wert  here  to  talk  face  to  face ;  to 
walk  abroad  with  me  and  learn. 

With  this  people  it  is  a  matter  of  Heaven  and 
Hell  whether  Ahmed's  beard  and  Mahmud's  tally  or 
differ  but  by  a  hair.  Thou  knowest  the  system  of 
their  statecraft  ?  It  is  this.  Certain  men,  appointing 
themselves,  go  about  and  speak  to  the  low-born,  the 
peasants,  the  leather- workers,  and  the  cloth-dealers, 
and  the  women,  saying :  '  Give  us  leave  by  your 
favour  to  speak  for  you  in  the  council.'  Securing 
that  permission  by  large  promises,  they  return  to 
the  council-place,  and,  sitting  unarmed,  some  six 
hundred  together,  speak  at  random  each  for  himself 
and  his  own  ball  of  low-born.  The  viziers  and 
dewans  of  the  Empress  must  ever  beg  money  at 
their  hands,  for  unless  more  than  a  half  of  the  six 
hundred  be  of  one  heart  towards  the  spending  of  the 
revenues,  neither  horse  can  be  shod,  rifle  loaded,  or 
man  clothed  throughout  the  land.  Remember  this 
very  continually.  The  six  hundred  are  above  the 
Empress,  above  the  Viceroy  of  India,  above  the  Head 
of  the  Army  and  every  other  power  that  thou  hast 
ever  known.  Because  they  hold  the  revenues. 

They  are  divided  into  two  hordes — the  one  per- 


ONE  VIEW   OF  THE  QUESTION.  85 

petually  hurling  abuse  at  the  other,  and  bidding  the 
low-born  hamper  and  rebel  against  all  that  the  other 
may  devise  for  government.  Except  that  they  sit 
unarmed,  and  so  call  each  other  liar,  dog,  and  bastard 
without  fear,  even  under  the  shadow  of  the  Empress's 
throne,  they  are  at  bitter  war  which  is  without  any 
end.  They  pit  lie  against  lie,  till  the  low-born  and 
common  folk  grow  drunk  with  lies,  and  in  their  turn 
begin  to  lie  and  refuse  to  pay  the  revenues.  Further, 
they  divide  their  women  into  bands,  and  send  them 
into  this  fight  with  yellow  flowers  in  their  hands, 
and  since  the  belief  of  a  woman  is  but  her  lover's 
belief  stripped  of  judgment,  very  many  wild  words 
are  added.  Well  said  the  slave  girl  to  Ma'mun  in 
the  delectable  pages  of  the  Son  of  Abdullah : — 

'  Oppression  and  the  sword  slay  fast — 
Thy  breath  kills  slowly  but  at  last.' 

If  they  desire  a  thing  they  declare  that  it  is  true.  If 
they  desire  it  not,  though  that  were  Death  itself, 
they  cry  aloud, '  It  has  never  been.'  Thus  their  talk 
is  the  talk  of  children,  and  like  children  they  snatch 
at  what  they  covet,  not  considering  whether  it  be 
their  own  or  another's.  And  in  their  councils,  when 
the  army  of  unreason  has  come  to  the  defile  of  dis- 
pute, and  there  is  no  more  talk  left  on  either  side, 
they,  dividing,  count  heads,  and  the  will  of  that  side 
which  has  the  larger  number  of  heads  makes  that 
law.  But  the  outnumbered  side  run  speedily  among 
the  common  people  and  bid  them  trample  on  that 


86  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

law,  and  slay  the  officers  thereof.  Follows  slaughter 
by  night  of  men  unarmed,  and  the  slaughter  of  cattle 
and  insults  to  women.  They  do  not  cut  off  the  noses 
of  women,  but  they  crop  their  hair  and  scrape  the 
flesh  with  pins.  Then  those  shameless  ones  of  the 
council  stand  up  before  the  judges  wiping  their 
mouths  and  making  oath.  They  say  :  '  Before  God 
we  are  free  from  blame.  Did  we  say  "  Heave  that 
stone  out  of  that  road  and  kill  that  one  and  no 
other "  ?'  So  they  are  not  made  shorter  by  the  head 
because  they  said  only :  '  Here  are  stones  and  yonder 
is  such  a  fellow  obeying  the  Law  which  is  no  law 
because  we  do  not  desire  it.' 

Read  this  in  the  Rao  Sahib's  ear,  and  ask  him  if 
he  remembers  that  season  when  the  Manglot  head- 
men refused  revenue,  not  because  they  could  not 
pay,  but  because  they  judged  the  cess  extreme.  I 
and  thou  went  out  with  the  troopers  all  one  day  and 
the  black  lances  raised  the  thatch,  so  that  there  was 
hardly  any  need  of  firing;  and  no  man  was  slain. 
But  this  land  is  at  secret  war  and  veiled  killing. 
In  five  years  of  peace  they  have  slain  within  their 
own  borders  and  of  their  own  kin  more  men  than 
would  have  fallen  had  the  ball  of  dissension  been 
left  to  the  mallet  of  the  army.  And  yet  there  is  no 
hope  of  peace,  for  soon  the  sides  again  divide,  and 
then  they  will  cause  to  be  slain  more  men  unarmed 
and  in  the  fields.  And  so  much  for  that  matter, 
which  is  to  our  advantage.  There  is  a  better  thing 


ONE   VIEW   OF  THE  QUESTION.  87 

to  be  told,  and  one  tending  to  the  Accomplishment 
of  Desire.  Read  here  with  a  fresh  mind  after  sleep. 
I  write  as  I  understand. 

Above  all  this  war  without  honour  lies  that 
which  I  find  hard  to  put  into  writing,  and  thou 
knowest  I  am  unhandy  of  the  pen.  I  will  ride  the 
steed  of  Inability  sideways  at  the  wall  of  Expres- 
sion. The  earth  underfoot  is  sick  and  sour  with 
the  much  handling  of  man,  as  a  grazing-ground 
sours  under  cattle;  and  the  air  is  sick  too.  Upon 
the  ground  they  have  laid  in  this  town,  as  it  were, 
the  stinking  boards  of  a  stable,  and  through  these 
boards,  between  a  thousand  thousand  houses,  the 
rank  humours  of  the  earth  sweat  through  to  the 
overburdened  air  that  returns  them  to  their  breed- 
ing place  ;  for  the  smoke  of  their  cooking-fires  keeps 
all  in  as  the  cover  the  juices  of  the  sheep.  And  in 
like  manner  there  is  a  green-sickness  among  the 
people,  and  especially  among  the  six  hundred  men 
who  talk.  Neither  winter  nor  autumn  abates  that 
malady  of  the  soul.  I  have  seen  it  among  women 
in  our  own  country,  and  in  boys  not  yet  blooded  to 
the  sword ;  but  I  have  never  seen  so  much  thereof 
before.  Through  the  peculiar  operation  of  this  air 
the  people,  abandoning  honour  and  steadfastness, 
question  all  authority,  not  as  men  question,  but  as 
girls,  whimperingly,  with  pinchings  in  the  back  when 
the  back  is  turned,  and  mowing.  If  one  cries  in  the 
streets,  *  There  has  been  an  injustice/  they  take  him 


88  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

not  to  make  complaint  to  those  appointed,  but  all 
who  pass,  drinking  his  words,  fly  clamorously  to  the 
house  of  the  accused  and  write  evil  things  of  him, 
his  wives  and  his  daughters;  for  they  take  no 
thought  to  the  weighing  of  evidence,  but  are  as 
women.  And  with  one  hand  they  beat  their  con- 
stables who  guard  the  streets,  and  with  the  other 
beat  the  constables  for  resenting  that  beating,  and 
fine  them.  When  they  have  in  all  things  made 
light  of  the  State  they  cry  to  the  State  for  help,  and 
it  is  given ;  so  that  the  next  time  they  will  cry  more. 
Such  as  are  oppressed  riot  through  the  streets,  bear- 
ing banners  that  hold  four  days'  labour  and  a  week's 
bread  in  cost  and  toil ;  and  when  neither  horse  nor 
foot  can  pass  by  they  are  satisfied.  Others,  receiv- 
ing wages,  refuse  to  work  till  they  get  more,  and  the 
priests  help  them,  and  also  men  of  the  six  hundred 
— for  where  rebellion  is  one  of  those  men  will  come 
as  a  kite  to  a  dead  bullock — and  priests,  talker,  and 
men  together  declare  that  it  is  right  because  these 
will  not  work  that  no  others  may  attempt.  In  this 
manner  they  have  so  confused  the  loading  and  the 
unloading  of  the  ships  that  come  to  this  town  that,  in 
sending  the  Rao  Sahib's  guns  and  harness,  I  saw  fit 
to  send  the  cases  by  the  train  to  another  ship  that 
sailed  from  another  place.  There  is  now  no  cer- 
tainty in  any  sending.  But  who  injures  the  mer- 
chants shuts  the  door  of  well-being  on  the  city  and 
the  army.  And  ye  know  what  Sa'adi  saith : — 


ONE  VIEW   OF  THE  QUESTION.  89 

'  How  may  the  merchant  westward  fare 
When  he  hears  the  tale  of  the  tumults  there  I ' 

No  man  can  keep  faith  because  he  cannot  tell  how 
his  underlings  will  go.  They  have  made  the  serv- 
ant greater  than  the  master,  for  that  he  is  the  serv- 
ant ;  not  reckoning  that  each  is  equal  under  God  to 
the  appointed  task.  That  is  a  thing  to  be  put  aside 
in  the  cupboard  of  the  mind. 

Further,  the  misery  and  outcry  of  the  common 
folk  of  whom  the  earth's  bosom  is  weary,  has  so 
wrought  upon  the  minds  of  certain  people  who  have 
never  slept  under  fear  nor  seen  the  flat  edge  of  the 
sword  on  the  heads  of  a  mob,  that  they  cry  out: 
'  Let  us  abate  everything  that  is,  and  altogether 
labour  with  our  bare  hands.'  Their  hands  in  that 
employ  would  fester  at  the  second  stroke;  and  I 
have  seen,  for  all  their  unrest  at  the  agonies  of 
others,  that  they  abandon  no  whit  of  soft  living. 
Unknowing  the  common  folk,  or  indeed  the  minds 
of  men,  they  offer  strong  drink  of  words  such  as 
they  themselves  use,  to  empty  bellies ;  and  that  wine 
breeds  drunkenness  of  soul.  The  distressful  persons 
stand  all  day  long  at  the  door  of  the  drink-places 
to  the  number  of  very  many  thousands.  The  well- 
wishing  people  of  small  discernment  give  them 
words  or  pitifully  attempt  in  schools  to  turn  them 
into  craftsmen,  weavers,  or  builders,  of  whom  there 
be  more  than  enough.  Yet  they  have  not  the  wis- 
dom to  look  at  the  hands  of  the  taught,  whereon  a 


90  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

man's  craft  and  that  of  his  father  is  written  "by 
God  and  Necessity.  They  believe  that  the  son  of  a 
drunkard  shall  drive  a  straight  chisel  and  the 
charioteer  do  plaster- work.  They  take  no  thought 
in  the  dispensation  of  generosity,  which  is  as  the 
closed  fingers  of  a  water-scooping  palm.  Therefore 
the  rough  timber  of  a  very  great  army  drifts  un- 
hewn through  the  slime  of  their  streets.  If  the  Gov- 
ernment, which  is  to-day  and  to-morrow  changes, 
spent  on  these  hopeless  ones  some  money  to  clothe 
and  equip,  I  should  not  write  what  I  write.  But 
these  people  despise  the  trade  of  arms,  and  rest  con- 
tent with  the  memory  of  old  battles;  the  women 
and  the  talking-men  aiding  them. 

Thou  wilt  say :  '  Why  speak  continually  of 
women  and  fools  ? '  I  answer  by  God,  the  Fash- 
ioner of  the  Heart,  the  fools  sit  among  the  six  hun- 
dred, and  the  women  sway  their  councils.  Hast 
thou  forgotten  when  the  order  came  across  the  seas 
that  rotted  out  the  armies  of  the  English  with  us, 
so  that  soldiers  fell  sick  by  the  hundred  where 
but  ten  had  sickened  before  ?  That  was  the  work 
of  not  more  than  twenty  of  the  men  and  some  fifty 
of  the  barren  women.  I  have  seen  three  or  four  of 
them,  male  and  female,  and  they  triumph  openly,  in 
the  name  of  their  God,  because  three  regiments  of 
the  white  troops  are  not.  This  is  to  our  advantage, 
because  the  sword  with  the  rust-spot  breaks  over 
the  turban  of  the  enemy.  But  if  they  thus  tear 


ONE  VIEW   OF  THE  QUESTION.  91 

their  own  flesh  and  blood  ere  their  madness  be  risen 
to  its  height,  what  will  they  do  when  the  moon  is 
full? 

Seeing  that  power  lay  in  the  hands  of  the  six 
hundred,  and  not  in  the  Viceroy  or  elsewhere,  I  have 
throughout  my  stay  sought  the  shadow  of  those 
among  them  who  talk  most  and  most  extravagantly. 
They  lead  the  common  folk,  and  receive  permission 
of  their  good-will.  It  is  the  desire  of  some  of 
these  men — indeed,  of  almost  as  many  as  caused  the 
rotting  of  the  English  army — that  our  lands  and 
peoples  should  accurately  resemble  those  of  the  Eng- 
lish upon  this  very  day.  May  God,  the  Contemner 
of  Folly,  forbid!  I  myself  am  accounted  a  show 
among  them,  and  of  us  and  ours  they  know  naught, 
some  calling  me  Hindu  and  others  Rajput,  and 
using  towards  me,  in  ignorance,  slave-talk  and  ex- 
pressions of  great  disrespect.  Some  of  them  are  well- 
born, but  the  greater  part  are  low-born,  coarse- 
skinned,  waving  their  arms,  high-voiced,  without 
dignity,  slack  in  the  mouth,  shifty-eyed,  and,  as 
I.  have  said,  swayed  by  the  wind  of  a  woman's 
cloak. 

Now  this  is  a  tale  but  two  days  old.  There  was 
a  company  at  meat,  and  a  high-voiced  woman  spoke 
to  me,  in  the  face  of  the  men,  of  the  affairs  of  our 
womankind.  It  was  her  ignorance  that  made  each 
word  an  edged  insult.  Remembering  this  I  held 
my  peace  till  she  had  spoken  a  new  law  as  to  the 


92  MANY  INVENTIONS. 

control  of  our  zenanas,  and  of  all  who  are  behind 
the  curtains. 

Then  I — '  Hast  thou  ever  felt  the  life  stir  under 
thy  heart  or  laid  a  little  son  between  thy  breasts,  O 
most  unhappy  ? '  Thereto  she,  hotly,  with  a  haggard 
eye — '  No,  for  I  am  a  free  woman,  and  no  servant  of 
babes/  Then  I,  softly — '  God  deal  lightly  with  thee, 
my  sister,  for  thou  art  in  heavier  bondage  than  any 
slave,  and  the  fuller  half  of  the  earth  is  hidden  from 
thee.  The  first  ten  years  of  the  life  of  a  man  are  his 
mother's,  and  from  the  dusk  to  the  dawn  surely  the 
wife  may  command  the  husband.  Is  it  a  great  thing 
to  stand  back  in  the  waking  hours  while  the  men  go 
abroad  unhampered  by  thy  hands  on  the  bridle- 
rein  ? '  Then  she  wondered  that  a  heathen  should 
speak  thus:  yet  she  is  a  woman  honoured  among 
these  men,  and  openly  professes  that  she  hath  no 
profession  of  faith  in  her  mouth.  Read  this  in  the 
ear  of  the  Rao  Sahib,  and  demand  how  it  would  fare 
with  me  if  I  brought  such  a  woman  for  his  use.  It 
were  worse  than  that  yellow  desert-bred  girl  from 
Cutch,  who  set  the  girls  to  fighting  for  her  own 
pleasure,  and  slippered  the  young  prince  across  the 
mouth.  Rememberest  thou  ? 

In  truth  the  fountain-head  of  power  is  putrid 
with  long  standing  still.  These  men  and  women 
would  make  of  all  India  a  dung-cake,  and  would 
fain  leave  the  mark  of  the  fingers  upon  it.  And 
they  have  power  and  the  control  of  the  revenues, 


ONE  VIEW   OF  THE   QUESTION.  93 

and  that  is  why  I  am  so  particular  in  description. 
They  have  power  over  all  India.  Of  what  they 
speak  they  understand  nothing,  for  the  low-born's 
soul  is  bounded  by  his  field,  and  he  grasps  not  the 
connection  of  affairs  from  pole  to  pole.  They  boast 
openly  that  the  Viceroy  and  the  others  are  their 
servants.  When  the  masters  are  mad,  what  shall 

the  servants  do  ? 

• 

Some  hold  that  all  war  is  sin,  and  Death  the 
greatest  fear  under  God.  Others  declare  with  the 
Prophet  that  it  is  evil  to  drink,  to  which  teaching 
their  streets  bear  evident  witness ;  and  others  there 
are,  specially  the  low-born,  who  aver  that  all  do- 
minion is  wicked  and  sovereignty  of  the  sword  ac- 
cursed. These  protested  to  me,  making,  as  it  were, 
an  apology  that  their  kin  should  hold  Hindustan, 
and  hoping  that  some  day  they  would  withdraw. 
Knowing  well  the  breed  of  white  man  in  our  borders 
I  would  have  laughed,  but  forebore,  remembering 
that  these  speakers  had  power  in  the  counting  of 
heads.  Yet  others  cry  aloud  against  the  taxation  of 
Hindustan  under  the  Sahibs'  rule.  To  this  I  assent, 
remembering  the  yearly  mercy  of  the  Rao  Sahib 
when  the  turbans  of  the  troopers  come  through  the 
blighted  corn,  and  the  women's  anklets  go  into  the 
melting-pot.  But  I  am  no  good  speaker.  That  is 
the  duty  of  the  boys  from  Bengal — hill-asses  with 
an  eastern  bray — Mahrattas  from  Poona,  and  the 
like.  These,  moving  among  fools,  represent  them- 


94  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

selves  as  the  sons  of  some  one,  "being  beggar-taught, 
offspring  of  grain-dealers,  curriers,  sellers  of  bottles, 
and  money-lenders,  as  thou  knowest.  Now,  we  of 
Jagesur  owe  naught  save  friendship  to  the  English 
who  took  us  by  the  sword,  and  having  taken  us  let 
us  go,  assuring  the  Rao  Sahib's  succession  for  all 
time.  But  these  base-born,  having  won  their  learn- 
ing^  through  the  mercy  of  the  Government,  attired  in 
English  clothes,  forswearing  the  faith  of  their  fa- 
thers for  gain,  spread  rumour  and  debate  against  the 
Government,  and  are  therefore  very  dear  to  certain 
of  the  six  hundred.  I  have  heard  these  cattle  speak 
as  princes  and  rulers  of  men,  and  I  have  laughed, 
but  not  altogether. 

Once  it  happened  that  a  son  of  some  grain-bag 
sat  with  me  at  meat,  who  was  arrayed  and  speaking 
after  the  manner  of  the  English.  At  each  mouthful 
he  committed  perjury  against  the  salt  that  he  had 
eaten,  the  men  and  women  applauding.  When, 
craftily  falsifying,  he  had  magnified  oppression  and 
invented  untold  wrong,  together  with  the  desecra- 
tion of  his  tun-bellied  gods,  he  demanded  in  the 
name  of  his  people  the  government  of  all  our  land, 
and  turning,  laid  palm  to  my  shoulder,  saying — 
'  Here  is  one  who  is  with  us,  albeit  he  professes  an- 
other faith ;  he  will  bear  out  my  words/  This  he 
delivered  in  English,  and,  as  it  were,  exhibited  me  to 
that  company.  Preserving  a  smiling  countenance, 
I  answered  in  our  own  tongue — 'Take  away  that 


ONE  VIEW   OF  THE  QUESTION.  95 

hand,  man  without  a  father,  or  the  folly  of  these 
folk  shall  not  save  thee,  nor  my  silence  guard  thy 
reputation.  Sit  off,  herd ! '  And  in  their  speech  I 
said — '  He  speaks  truth.  When  the  favour  and  wis- 
dom of  the  English  allows  us  yet  a  little  larger  share 
in  the  burden  and  the  reward,  the  Mussalman  will 
deal  with  the  Hindu.'  He  alone  saw  what  was  in 
my  heart.  I  was  merciful  towards  him  because  he 
was  accomplishing  our  desires ;  but  remember  that 
his  father  is  one  Durga  Charan  Laha,  in  Calcutta. 
Lay  thy  hand  upon  his  shoulder  if  ever  chance 
sends.  It  is  not  good  that  bottle-dealers  and  auc- 
tioneers should  paw  the  sons  of  princes.  I  walk 
abroad  sometimes  with  the  man  that  all  the  world 
may  know  the  Hindu  and  Mussalman  are  one,  but 
when  we  come  to  the  unfrequented  streets  I  bid  him 
walk  behind  me,  and  that  is  sufficient  honour. 

And  why  did  I  eat  dirt  ? 

Thus,  my  brother,  it  seems  to  my  heart,  which 
has  almost  burst  in  the  consideration  of  these 
matters.  The  Bengalis  and  the  beggar-taught  boys 
know  well  that  the  Sahibs'  power  to  govern  comes 
neither  from  the  Viceroy  nor  the  head  of  the  army, 
but  from  the  hands  of  the  six  hundred  in  this  town, 
and  peculiarly  those  who  talk  most.  They  will 
therefore  yearly  address  themselves  more  and  more 
to  that  protection,  and  working  on  the  green-sick- 
ness of  the  land,  as  has  ever  been  their  custom,  will 
in  time  cause,  through  the  perpetually  instigated 


96  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

interference  of  the  six  hundred,  the  hand  of  the 
Indian  Government  to  become  inoperative,  so  that 
no  measure  nor  order  may  be  carried  through  with- 
out clamour  and  argument  on  their  part ;  for  that  is 
the  delight  of  the  English  at  this  hour.  Have  I 
overset  the  bounds  of  possibility  ?  No.  Even  thou 
must  have  heard  that  one  of  the  six  hundred,  having 
neither  knowledge,  fear,  nor  reverence  before  his 
eyes,  has  made  in  sport  a  new  and  a  written  scheme 
for  the  government  of  Bengal,  and  openly  shows  it 
abroad  as  a  king  might  read  his  crowning  proclama- 
tion. And  this  man,  meddling  in  affairs  of  State, 
speaks  in  the  council  for  an  assemblage  of  leather- 
dressers,  makers  of  boots  and  harness,  and  openly 
glories  in  that  he  has  no  God.  Has  either  minister 
of  the  Empress,  Empress,  Viceroy,  or  any  other 
raised  a  voice  against  this  leather-man  ?  Is  not  his 
power  therefore  to  be  sought,  and  that  of  his  like- 
thinkers  with  it  ?  Thou  seest. 

The  telegraph  is  the  servant  of  the  six  hundred, 
and  all  the  Sahibs  in  India,  omitting  not  one,  are 
the  servants  of  the  telegraph.  Yearly,  too,  thou 
knowest,  the  beggar-taught  will  hold  that  which 
they  call  their  Congress,  first  at  one  place  and  then 
at  another,  leavening  Hindustan  with  rumour,  echo- 
ing the  talk  among  the  low-born  people  here,  and  de- 
manding that  they,  like  the  six  hundred,  control  the 
revenues.  And  they  will  bring  every  point  and 
letter  over  the  heads  of  the  Governors  and  the 


ONE  VIEW   OF  THE  QUESTION.  97 

Lieutenant-Governors,  and  whoever  hold  authority, 
and  cast  it  clamorously  at  the  feet  of  the  six  hun- 
dred here;  and  certain  of  those  word-confounders 
and  the  barren  women  will  assent  to  their  demands, 
and  others  will  weary  of  disagreement.  Thus  fresh 
confusion  will  be  thrown  into  the  councils  of  the 
Empress  even  as  an  island  near  by  is  helped  and 
comforted  into  the  smothered  war  of  which  I  have 
written.  Then  yearly,  as  they  have  begun  and  we 
have  seen,  the  low-born  men  of  the  six  hundred 
anxious  for  honour  will  embark  for  our  land,  and, 
staying  a  little  while,  will  gather  round  them  and 
fawn  before  the  beggar-taught,  and  these  departing 
from  their  side  will  assuredly  inform  the  peasants, 
and  the  fighting  men  for  whom  there  is  no  employ, 
that  there  is  a  change  toward  and  a  coming  of  help 
from  over  the  seas.  That  rumour  will  not  grow 
smaller  in  the  spreading.  And,  most  of  all,  the  Con- 
gress, when  it  is  not  under  the  eye  of  the  six  hun- 
dred— who,  though  they  foment  dissension  and 
death,  pretend  great  reverence  for  the  law  which  is 
no  law — will,  stepping  aside,  deliver  uneasy  words 
to  the  peasants,  speaking,  as  it  has  done  already,  of 
the  remission  of  taxation,  and  promising  a  new  rule. 
That  is  to  our  advantage,  but  the  flower  of  danger  is 
in  the  seed  of  it.  Thou  knowest  what  evil  a  rumour 
may  do ;  though  in  the  Black  Year  when  thou  and  I 
were  young,  our  standing  to  the  English  brought 
gain  to  Jagesur  and  enlarged  our  borders,  for  the 


98  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

Government  gave  us  land  on  both,  sides.  Of  the 
Congress  itself  nothing  is  to  be  feared  that  ten 
troopers  could  not  remove,  but  if  its  words  too  soon 
perturb  the  minds  of  those  waiting  or  of  princes  in 
idleness,  a  flame  may  come  before  the  time,  and 
since  there  are  now  many  white  hands  to  quench  it, 
all  will  return  to  the  former  condition.  If  the  flame 
be  kept  under  we  need  have  no  fear,  because,  sweat- 
ing and  panting,  the  one  trampling  on  the  other,  the 
white  people  here  are  digging  their  own  graves. 
The  hand  of  the  Viceroy  will  be  tied,  the  hearts  of 
the  Sahibs  will  be  downcast,  and  all  eyes  will  turn 
to  England  disregarding  any  orders.  Meantime, 
keeping  tally  on  the  sword-hilt  against  the  hour 
when  the  score  must  be  made  smooth  by  the  blade, 
it  is  well  for  us  to  assist  and  greatly  befriend  the 
Bengali  that  he  may  get  control  of  the  revenues  and 
the  posts.  We  must  even  write  to  England  that  we 
be  of  one  blood  with  the  school-men.  It  is  not  long 
to  wait ;  by  my  head  it  is  not  long !  This  people  are 
like  the  great  king  Ferisht,  who,  eaten  with  the 
scab  of  long  idleness,  plucked  off  his  crown  and 
danced  naked  among  the  dung-hills.  But  I  have 
not  forgotten  the  profitable  end  of  that  tale.  The 
vizier  set  him  upon  a  horse  and  led  him  into  battle. 
Presently  his  health  returned,  and  he  caused  to  be 
engraven  on  the  crown : — 

'  Though  I  was  cast  away  by  the  king 

Yet,  through  God.  I  returned  and  he  added  to  my  brilliance 
Two  great  rubies  (Balkh  and  Iran).' 


ONE  VIEW   OF  THE   QUESTION.  99 

If  this  people  be  purged  and  bled  out  by  battle, 
their  sickness  may  go  and  their  eyes  be  cleared  to 
the  necessities  of  things.  But  they  are  now  far  gone 
in  rottenness.  Even  the  stallion,  too  long  heel- 
roped,  forgets  how  to  fight:  and  these  men  are 
mules.  I  do  not  lie  when  I  say  that  unless  they  are 
bled  and  taught  with  the  whip,  they  will  hear  and 
obey  all  that  is  said  by  the  Congress  and  the  black 
men  here,  hoping  to  turn  our  land  into  their  own 
orderless  Jehannum.  For  the  men  of  the  six  hun- 
dred, being  chiefly  low-born  and  unused  to  authority, 
desire  much  to  exercise  rule,  extending  their  arms 
to  the  sun  and  moon,  and  shouting  very  greatly  in 
order  to  hear  the  echo  of  their  voices,  each  one 
saying  some  new  strange  thing  and  parting  the 
goods  and  honour  of  others  among  the  rapacious, 
that  he  may  obtain  the  favour  of  the  common  folk. 
And  all  this  is  to  our  advantage. 

Therefore  write,  that  they  may  read,  of  gratitude 
and  of  love  and  the  law.  I  myself,  when  I  return, 
will  show  how  the  dish  should  be  dressed  to  take  the 
taste  here  ;  for  it  is  here  that  we  must  come.  Cause 
to  be  established  in  Jagesur  a  newspaper,  and  fill  it 
with  translations  of  their  papers.  A  beggar-taught 
may  be  brought  from  Calcutta  for  thirty  rupees  a 
month,  and  if  he  writes  in  Gurmukhi  our  people 
cannot  read.  Create,  further,  councils  other  than 
the  panchayats  of  headmen,  village  by  village  and 
district  by  district,  instructing  them  beforehand 


100  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

what  to  say  according  to  the  order  of  the  Rao. 
Print  all  these  things  in  a  book  in  English,  and  send 
it  to  this  place,  and  to  every  man  of  the  six  hundred. 
Bid  the  beggar-taught  write  in  front  of  all  that 
Jagesur  follows  fast  on  the  English  plan.  If  thou 
squeezest  the  Hindu  shrine  at  Theegkot,  and  it  is  ripe, 
remit  the  head-tax,  and  perhaps  the  marriage-tax, 
with  great  publicity.  But  above  all  things  keep  the 
troops  ready,  and  in  good  pay,  even  though  we  glean 
the  stubble  with  the  wheat  and  stint  the  Rao  Sahib's 
women.  All  must  go  softly.  Protest  thou  thy  love 
for  the  voice  of  the  common  people  in  all  things, 
and  affect  to  despise  the  troops.  That  shall  be 
taken  for  a  witness  in  this  land.  The  headship  of 
the  troops  must  be  mine.  See  that  Bahadur  Shah's 
wits  go  wandering  over  the  wine,  but  do  not  send 
him  to  God.  I  am  an  old  man,  but  I  may  yet  live  to 
lead. 

If  this  people  be  not  bled  out  and  regain  strength, 
we,  watching  how  the  tide  runs,  when  we  see  that 
the  shadow  of  their  hand  is  all  but  lifted  from  Hin- 
dustan, must  bid  the  Bengali  demand  the  removal 
of  the  residue  or  set  going  an  uneasiness  to  that  end. 
We  must  have  a  care  neither  to  hurt  the  life  of  the 
Englishmen  nor  the  honour  of  their  women,  for  in 
that  case  six  times  the  six  hundred  here  could  not 
hold  those  who  remain  from  making  the  land  swim. 
We  must  care  that  they  are  not  mobbed  by  the  Ben- 
galis, but  honourably  escorted,  while  the  land  is 


ONE  VIEW   OF  THE   QUESTION.  101 

held  down  with  the  threat  of  the  sword  if  a  hair  of 
their  heads  fall.  Thus  we  shall  gain  a  good  name, 
and  when  rebellion  is  unaccompanied  by  bloodshed, 
as  has  lately  befallen  in  a  far  country,  the  English, 
disregarding  honour,  call  it  by  a  new  name:  even 
one  who  has  been  a  minister  of  the  Empress,  but  is 
now  at  war  against  the  law,  praises  it  openly  before 
the  common  folk.  So  greatly  are  they  changed  since 
the  days  of  Nikhal  Seyn !  *  And  then,  if  all  go  well 
and  the  Sahibs,  who  through  continual  checking  and 
browbeating  will  have  grown  sick  at  heart,  see  them- 
selves abandoned  by  their  kin — for  this  people  have 
allowed  their  greatest  to  die  on  dry  sand  through 
delay  and  fear  of  expense — we  may  go  forward. 
This  people  are  swayed  by  names.  A  new  name 
therefore  must  be  given  to  the  rule  of  Hindustan 
(and  that  the  Bengalis  may  settle  among  them- 
selves), and  there  will  be  many  writings  and  oaths 
of  love,  such  as  the  little  island  ov.er  seas  makes 
when  it  would  fight  more  bitterly;  and  after  that 
the  residue  are  diminished  the  hour  comes,  and  we 
must  strike  so  that  the  Sword  is  never  any  more 
questioned. 

By  the  favour  of  God  and  the  conservation  of 
the  Sahibs  these  many  years,  Hindustan  contains 
very  much  plunder,  which  we  can  in  no  way  eat 
hurriedly.  There  will  be  to  our  hand  the  scaffold- 

*  Nicholson,  a  gentleman  once  of  some  notoriety  in  India. 


102  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

ing  of  the  house  of  state,  for  the  Bengali  shall  con- 
tinue to  do  our  work,  and  must  account  to  us  for  the 
revenue,  and  learn  his  seat  in  the  order  of  things. 
Whether  the  Hindu  kings  of  the  West  will  break  in 
to  share  that  spoil  before  we  have  swept  it  alto- 
gether, thou  knowest  better  than  I ;  but  be  certain 
that,  then,  strong  hands  will  seek  their  own  thrones, 
and  it  may  be  that  the  days  of  the  king  of  Delhi 
will  return  if  we  only,  curbing  our  desires,  pay  due 
obedience  to  the  outward  appearances  and  the 
names.  Thou  rememberest  the  old  song: — 

'  Hadst  thou  not  called  it  Love,  I  had  said  it  were  a  drawn  sword, 
But  since  thou  hast  spoken,  I  believe  and — 1  die.' 

It  is  in  my  heart  that  there  will  remain  in  our 
land  a  few  Sahibs  undesirous  of  returning  to  Eng- 
land. These  we  must  cherish  and  protect,  that  by 
their  skill  and  cunning  we  may  hold  together  and 
preserve  unity  in  time  of  war.  The  Hindu  kings 
will  never  trust  a  Sahib  in  the  core  of  their  coun- 
sels. I  say  again  that  if  we  of  the  Faith  confide  in 
them,  we  shall  trample  upon  our  enemies. 

Is  all  this  a  dream  to  thee,  gray  fox  of  my  moth- 
er's bearing  ?  I  have  written  of  what  I  have  seen 
and  heard,  but  from  the  same  clay  two  men  will 
never  fashion  platters  alike,  nor  from  the  same  facts 
draw  equal  conclusions.  Once  more,  there  is  a 
green-sickness  upon  all  the  people  of  this  country. 
They  eat  dirt  even  now  to  stay  their  cravings. 


ONE  VIEW   OF  THE  QUESTION.  103 

Honour  and  stability  have  departed  from  their 
councils,  and  the  knife  of  dissension  has  brought 
down  upon  their  heads  the  flapping  tent-flies  of 
confusion.  The  Empress  is  old.  They  speak  dis- 
respectfully of  her  and  hers  in  the  street.  They 
despise  the  sword,  and  believe  that  the  tongue  and 
the  pen  sway  all.  The  measure  of  their  ignorance 
and  their  soft  belief  is  greater  than  the  measure  of 
the  wisdom  of  Solomon,  the  son  of  David.  All 
these  things  I  have  seen  whom  they  regard  as  a 
wild  beast  and  a  spectacle.  By  God  the  Enlightener 
of  Intelligence,  if  the  Sahibs  in  India  could  breed 
sons  who  lived  so  that  their  houses  might  be  estab- 
lished, I  would  almost  fling  my  sword  at  the  Vice- 
roy's feet,  saying :  '  Let  us  here  fight  for  a  kingdom 
together,  thine  and  mine,  disregarding  the  babble 
across  the  water.  Write  a  letter  to  England,  saying 
that  we  love  them  but  would  depart  from  their 
camps  and  make  all  clean  under  a  new  crown.'  But 
the  Sahibs  die  out  at  the  third  generation  in  our 
land,  and  it  may  be  that  I  dream  dreams.  Yet  not 
altogether.  Until  a  white  calamity  of  steel  and 
bloodshed,  the  bearing  of  burdens,  the  trembling 
for  life,  and  the  hot  rage  of  insult— -for  pestilence 
ivould  unman  them  if  eyes  not  unused  to  men  see 
dear — befall  this  people,  our  path  is  safe.  They  are 
sick.  The  Fountain  of  Power  is  a  gutter  which  all 
may  defile  ;  and  the  voices  of  the  men  are  overborne 
by  the  squealings  of  mules  and  the  whinnying  of 


104  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

barren  mares.  If  through  adversity  they  become 
wise,  then,  my  brother,  strike  with  and  for  them, 
and  later,  when  thou  and  I  are  dead,  and  the  disease 
grows  up  again  (the  young  men  bred  in  the  school 
of  fear  and  trembling  and  word-confounding  have 
yet  to  live  out  their  appointed  span),  those  who  have 
fought  on  the  side  of  the  English  may  ask  and  re- 
ceive what  they  choose.  At  present  seek  quietly  to 
confuse,  and  delay,  and  evade,  and  make  of  no 
effect.  In  this  business  four  score  of  the  six  hun- 
dred are  our  true  helpers. 

Now  the  pen,  and  the  ink,  and  the  hand  weary 
together,  as  thy  eyes  will  weary  in  this  reading.  Be 
it  known  to  my  house  that  I  return  soon,  but  do  not 
speak  of  the  hour.  Letters  without  name  have  come 
to  me  touching  my  honour.  The  honour  of  my 
house  is  thine.  If  they  be,  as  I  believe,  the  work  of 
a  dismissed  groom,  Futteh  Lai,  that  ran  at  the  tail 
of  my  wine-coloured  Katthiawar  stallion,  his  village 
is  beyond  Manglot ;  look  to  it  tjiat  his  tongue  no 
longer  lengthens  itself  on  the  names  of  those  who 
are  mine.  If  it  be  otherwise,  put  a  guard  upon  my 
house  till  I  come,  and  especially  see  that  no  sellers 
of  jewellery,  astrologers,  or  midwives  have  entrance 
to  the  women's  rooms.  We  rise  by  our  slaves,  and 
by  our  slaves  we  fall,  as  it  was  said.  To  all  who  are 
of  my  remembrance  I  bring  gifts  according  to  their 
worth.  I  have  written  twice  of  the  gift  that  I  would 
cause  to  be  given  to  Bahadur  Shah. 


ONE  VIEW   OF  THE   QUESTION.  105 

The  blessing  of  God  and  his  Prophet  on  thee  and 
thine  till  the  end  which  is  appointed.  Give  me  fe- 
licity by  informing  me  of  the  state  of  thy  health. 
My  head  is  at  the  Rao  Sahib's  feet ;  my  sword  is  at 
his  left  side,  a  little  above  my  heart.  Follows  my 
seal. 


'THE  FINEST  STORY  IN  THE  WORLD/ 

'  Or  ever  the  knightly  years  were  gone 

With  the  old  world  to  the  grave, 
I  was  a  king  in  Babylon 
And  you  were  a  Christian  slave.' 

W.  E.  HENLEY. 

His  name  was  Charlie  Mears ;  lie  was  the  only  son 
of  his  mother  who  was  a  widow,  and  he  lived  in  the 
north  of  London,  coming  into  the  City  every  day  to 
work  in  a  bank.  He  was  twenty  years  old  and 
suffered  from  aspirations.  I  met  him  in  a  public 
billiard-saloon  where  the  marker  called  him  by  his 
first  name,  and  he  called  the  marker  'Bullseyes.' 
Charlie  explained,  a  little  nervously,  that  he  had 
only  come  to  the  place  to  look  on,  and  since  looking 
on  at  games  of  skill  is  not  a  cheap  amusement  for 
the  young,  I  suggested  that  Charlie  should  go  back 
to  his  mother. 

That  was  our  first  step  towards  better  acquaint- 
ance. He  would  call  on  me  sometimes  in  the  even- 
ings instead  of  running  about  London  with  his 
fellow-clerks ;  and  before  long,  speaking  of  himself 
as  a  young  man  must,  he  told  me  of  his  aspirations, 

Copyright,  1893,  by  D.  Appleton  &  Co. 


'THE  FINEST  STORY  IN  THE  WOULD.'      107 

which  were  all  literary.  He  desired  to  make  himself 
an  undying  name  chiefly  through  verse,  though  he 
was  not  above  sending  stories  of  love  and  death  to 
the  penny-in-the-slot  journals.  It  was  my  fate  to  sit 
still  while  Charlie  read  me  poems  of  many  hundred 
lines,  and  bulky  fragments  of  plays  that  would 
surely  shake  the  world.  My  reward  was  his  un- 
reserved confidence,  and  the  self-revelations  and 
troubles  of  a  young  man  are  almost  as  holy  as 
those  of  a  maiden.  Charlie  had  never  fallen  in 
love,  but  was  anxious  to  do  so  at  the  first  oppor- 
tunity ;  he  believed  in  all  things  good  and  all  things 
honourable,  but  at  the  same  time,  was  curiously 
careful  to  let  me  see  that  he  knew  his  way  about  the 
world  as  befitted  a  bank-clerk  on  twenty-five  shil- 
lings a  week.  He  rhymed  '  dove '  with  '  love '  and 
'moon'  with  'June/  and  devoutly  believed  that 
they  had  never  so  been  rhymed  before.  The  long 
lame  gaps  in  his  plays  he  filled  up  with  hasty  words 
of  apology  and  description  and  swept  on,  seeing  all 
that  he  intended  to  do  so  clearly  that  he  esteemed  it 
already  done,  and  turned  to  me  for  applause. 

I  fancy  that  his  mother  did  not  encourage  his 
aspirations,  and  I  know  that  his  writing-table  at 
home  was  the  edge  of  his  washstand.  This  he  told 
me  almost  at  the  outset  of  our  acquaintance ;  when 
he  was  ravaging  my  bookshelves,  and  a  little  before 
I  was  implored  to  speak  the  truth  as  to  his  chances 

of  'writing    something    really    great,  you    know/ 

8 


108  MANY  INVENTIONS. 

Maybe  I  encouraged  him  too  much,  for,  one  night, 
he  called  on  me,  his  eyes  flaming  with  excitement, 
and  said  breathlessly : — 

'Do  you  mind — can  you  let  me  stay  here  and 
write  all  this  evening  ?  I  won't  interrupt  you,  I 
won't  really.  There's  no  place  for  me  to  write  in  at 
my  mother's.' 

'  What's  the  trouble  ? '  I  said,  knowing  well  what 
that  trouble  was. 

'  I've  a  notion  in  my  head  that  would  make  the 
most  splendid  story  that  was  ever  written.  Do  let 
me  write  it  out  here.  It's  such  a  notion ! ' 

There  was  no  resisting  the  appeal.  I  set  him  a 
table ;  he  hardly  thanked  me,  but  plunged  into  the 
work  at  once.  For  half  an  hour  the  pen  scratched 
without  stopping.  Then  Charlie  sighed  and  tugged 
his  hair.  The  scratching  grew  slower;  there  were 
more  erasures ;  and  at  last  ceased.  The  finest  story 
in  the  world  would  not  come  forth. 

'It  looks  such  awful  rot  now/  he  said  mourn- 
fully. '  And  yet  it  seemed  so  good  when  I  was 
thinking  about  it.  What's  wrong  ? ' 

I  could  not  dishearten  him  by  saying  the  truth. 
So  I  answered :  '  Perhaps  you  don't  feel  in  the  mood 
for  writing/ 

'  Yes,  I  do — except  when  I  look  at  this  stuff.  Ugh ! ' 

'  Read  me  what  you've  done,'  I  said. 

He  read,  and  it  was  wondrous  bad,  and  he  paused 
at  all  the  specially  turgid  sentences,  expecting  a  little 


'THE  FINEST  STORY  IN  THE  WOKLD.'      109 

approval ;  for  lie  was  proud  of  those  sentences,  as  I 
knew  he  would  be. 

'  It  needs  compression,'  I  suggested  cautiously. 

'  I  hate  cutting  my  things  down.  I  don't  think 
you  could  alter  a  word  here  without  spoiling  the 
sense.  It  reads  better  aloud  than  when  I  was  writ- 
ing it.' 

'  Charlie,  you're  suffering  from  an  alarming  dis- 
ease afflicting  a  numerous  class.  Put  the  thing  by, 
and  tackle  it  again  in  a  week.' 

'  I  want  to  do  it  at  once.  What  do  you  think 
of  it?' 

'  How  can  I  judge  from  a  half-written  tale  ?  Tell 
me  the  story  as  it  lies  in  your  head.'  , 

Charlie  told,  and  in  the  telling  there  was  every- 
thing that  his  ignorance  had  so  carefully  prevented 
from  escaping  into  the  written  word.  I  looked  at 
him,  wondering  whether  it  were  possible  that  he  did 
not  know  the  originality,  the  power  of  the  notion 
that  had  come  in  his  way  ?  It  was  distinctly  a 
Notion  among  notions.  Men  had  been  puffed  up 
with  pride  by  ideas  not  a  tithe  as  excellent  and 
practicable.  But  Charlie  babbled  on  serenely,  inter- 
rupting the  current  of  pure  fancy  with  samples  of 
horrible  sentences  that  he  purposed  to  use.  I  heard 
him  out  to  the  end.  It  would  be  folly  to  allow  his 
thought  to  remain  in  his  own  inept  hands,  when  I 
could  do  so  much  with  it.  Not  all  that  could  be 
done  indeed ;  but,  oh  so  much ! 


110  MANY  INVENTIONS.       ' 

'  What  do  you  think  ? '  lie  said  at  last.  '  I  fancy 
I  shall  call  it  "  The  Story  of  a  Ship." ' 

'  I  think  the  idea  is  pretty  good ;  but  you  won't 
be  able  to  handle  it  for  ever  so  long.  Now  I ' 

'  Would  it  be  of  any  use  to  you  ?  Would  you  care 
to  take  it  ?  I  should  be  proud/  said  Charlie  promptly. 

There  are  few  things  sweeter  in  this  world  than 
the  guileless,  hot-headed,  intemperate,  open  admira- 
tion of  a  junior.  Even  a  woman  in  her  blindest 
devotion  does  not  fall  into  the  gait  of  the  man  she 
adores,  tilt  her  bonnet  to  the  angle  at  which  he 
wears  his  hat,  or  interlard  her  speech  with  his  pet 
oaths.  And  Charlie  did  all  these  things.  Still  it 
was  necessary  to  salve  my  conscience  before  I  pos- 
sessed myself  of  Charlie's  thought. 

'  Let's  make  a  bargain.  I'll  give  you  a  fiver  for 
the  notion/  I  said. 

Charlie  became  a  bank-clerk  at.  once. 

'  Oh,  that's  impossible.  Between  two  pals,  you 
know,  if  I  may  call  you  so,  and  speaking  as  a  man 
of  the  world,  I  couldn't.  Take  the  notion  if  it's  any 
use  to  you.  I've  heaps  more/ 

He  had — none  knew  this  better  than  I — but  they 
were  the  notions  of  other  men. 

'  Look  at  it  as  a  matter  of  business — between 
men  of  the  world/  I  returned.  '  Five  pounds  will 
buy  you  any  number  of  poetry-books.  Business  is 
business,  and  you  may  be  sure  I  shouldn't  give  that 
price  unless ' 


'THE  FINEST  STORY  IN  THE  WORLD.'      Ill 

'  Oh,  if  you  put  it  that  way,'  said  Charlie,  visibly 
moved  by  the  thought  of  the  books.  The  bargain 
was  clinched  with  an  agreement  that  he  should  at 
unstated  intervals  come  to  me  with  all  the  notions 
that  he  possessed,  should  have  a  table  of  his  own 
to  write  at,  and  unquestioned  right  to  inflict  upon 
me  all  his  poems  and  fragments  of  poems.  Then  I 
said, '  Now  tell  me  how  you  came  by  this  idea/ 

*  It  came  by  itself.'  Charlie's  eyes  opened  a 
little. 

'Yes,  but  you  told  me  a  great  deal  about  the 
hero  that  you  must  have  read  before  somewhere.' 

'  I  haven't  any  time  for  reading,  except  when  you 
let  me  sit  here,  and  on  Sundays  I'm  on  my  bicycle 
or  down  the  river  all  day.  There's  nothing  wrong 
about  the  hero,  is  there  ? '  . 

'  Tell  me  again  and  I  shall  understand  clearly. 
You  say  that  your  hero  went  pirating.  How  did  he 
live  ? ' 

'  He  was  on  the  lower  deck  of  this  ship-thing  that 
I  was  telling  you  about.' 

'  What  sort  of  ship?' 

'It  was  the  kind  rowed  with  oars,  and  the  sea 
spurts  through  the  oar-holes  and  the  men  row  sitting 
up  to  their  knees  in  water.  Then  there's  a  bench 
running  down  between  the  two  lines  of  oars  and  an 
overseer  with  a  whip  walks  up  and  down  the  bench 
to  make  the  men  work.' 

'  How  do  you  know  that  ? ' 


112  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

'It's  in  the  tale.  There's  a  rope  running  over- 
head, looped  to  the  upper  deck,  for  the  overseer  to 
catch  hold  of  when  the  ship  rolls.  When  the  over- 
seer misses  the  rope  once  and  falls  among  the 
rowers,  remember  the  hero  laughs  at  him  and  gets 
licked  for  it.  He's  chained  to  his  oar  of  course — the 
hero.' 

'  How  is  he  chained  ?' 

'  With  an  iron  band  round  his  waist  fixed  to  the 
bench  he  sits  on,  and  a  sort  of  handcuff  on  his  left 
wrist  chaining  him  to  the  oar.  He's  on  the  lower 
deck  where  the  worst  men  are  sent,  and  the  only 
light  comes  from  the  hatchways  and  through  the 
oar-holes.  Can't  you  imagine  the  sunlight  just 
squeezing  through  between  the  handle  and  the  hole 
and  wobbling  about  as  the  ship  rolls  ? ' 

'  I  can,  but  I  can't  imagine  your  imagining  it/ 

'  How  could  it  be  any  other  way  ?  Now  you 
listen  to  me.  The  long  oars  on  the  upper  deck  are 
managed  by  four  men  to  each  bench,  the  lower  ones 
by  three,  and  the  lowest  of  all  by  two.  Remember 
it's  quite  dark  on  the  lowest  deck  and  all  the  men 
there  go  mad.  When  a  man  dies  at  his  oar  on  that 
deck  he  isn't  thrown  overboard,  but  cut  up  in  his 
chains  and  stuffed  through  the  oar-hole  in  little 
pieces/ 

'  Why  ? '  I  demanded  amazed,  not  so  much  at  the 
information  as  the  tone  of  command  in  which  it  was 
flung  out. 


'THE  FINEST  STORY  IN  THE  WORLD/      113 

'  To  save  trouble  and  to  frighten  the  others.  It 
needs  two  overseers  to  drag  a  man's  body  up  to  the 
top  deck;  and  if  the  men  at  the  lower-deck  oars 
were  left  alone,  of  course  they'd  stop  rowing  and  try 
to  pull  up  the*  benches  by  all  standing  up  together 
in  their  chains/ 

'You've  a  most  provident  imagination.  Where 
have  you  been  reading  about  galleys  and  galley- 
slaves  ?' 

'  Nowhere  that  I  remember.  I  row  a  little  when 
I  get  the  chance.  But,  perhaps,  if  you  say  so,  I  may 
have  read  something.' 

He  went  away  shortly  afterwards  to  deal  with 
booksellers,  and  I  wondered  how  a  bank-clerk  aged 
twenty  could  put  into  my  hands  with  a  profligate 
abundance  of  detail,  all  given  with  absolute  assur- 
ance, the  story  of  extravagant  and  bloodthirsty  ad- 
venture, riot,  piracy,  and  death  in  unnamed  seas. 
He  had  led  his  hero  a  desperate  dance  through  re- 
volt against  the  overseers,  to  command  of  a  ship  of 
his  own,  and  the  ultimate  establishment  of  a  king- 
dom on  an  island  '  somewhere  in  the  sea,  you 
know ; '  and,  delighted  with  my  paltry  five  pounds, 
had  gone  out  to  buy  the  notions  of  other  men,  that 
these  might  teach  him  how  to  write.  I  had  the  con- 
solation of  knowing  that  this  notion  was  mine  by 
right  of  purchase ;  and  I  thought  that  I  could  make 
something  of  it. 

When  next  he  came  to  me  he  was  drunk — royally 


114  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

drunk — on  many  poets  for  the  first  time  revealed  to 
him.  His  pupils  were  dilated,  his  words  tumbled 
over  each  other,  and  he  wrapped  himself  in  quo- 
tations— as  a  beggar  would  enfold  himself  in  the 
purple  of  Emperors.  Most  of  all  was  he  drunk 
with  Longfellow. 

*  Isn't  it  splendid  ?  Isn't  it  superb  ? '  he  cried, 
after  hasty  greetings.  '  Listen  to  this — 

'  "  Wouldst  thou," — so  the  helmsman  answered, 

"  Know  the  secret  of  the  sea  1 
Only  those  who  brave  its  dangers 

Comprehend  its  mystery." 
By  gum ! 

'  "  Only  those  who  brave  its  dangers 
Comprehend  its  mystery," ' 

he  repeated  twenty  times,  walking  up  and  down  the 
room  and  forgetting  me.  '  But  /  can  understand  it 
too,'  he  said  to  himself.  '  I  don't  know  how  to  thank 
you  for  that  fiver.  And  this ;  listen — 

' "  I  remember  the  black  wharves  and  the  slips 

And  the  sea-tides  tossing  free ; 
And  the  Spanish  sailors  with  bearded  lips, 
And  the  beauty  and  mystery  of  the  ships, 

And  the  magic  of  the  sea." 

I  haven't  braved  any  dangers,  but  I  feel  as  if  I  knew 
all  about  it.' 

'You  certainly  seem  to  have  a  grip  of  the  sea. 
Have  you  ever  seen  it  ? ' 

'When  I  was  a  little  chap  I  went  to  Brighton 
once ;  we  used  to  live  in  Coventry,  though,  before 
we  came  to  London.  I  never  saw  it, 


'THE  FINEST  STORY  IN  THE  WORLD.'      115 

' "  When  descends  on  the  Atlantic 

The  gigantic 
Storm-wind  of  the  Equinox."  ' 

He  shook  me  by  the  shoulder  to  make  me  under- 
stand the  passion  that  was  shaking  himself. 

*  When  that  storm  comes/  he  continued, '  I  think 
that  all  the  oars  in  the  ship  that  I  was  talking 
about  get  broken,  and  the  rowers  have  their  chests 
smashed  in  by  the  oar-heads  bucking.    By  the  way, 
have  you  done  anything  with  that  notion  of  mine, 
yet?' 

'  No.  I  was  waiting  to  hear  more  of  it  from 
you.  Tell  me  how  in  the  world  you're  so  certain 
about  the  fittings  of  the  ship.  You  know  nothing 
of  ships.' 

'I  don't  know.  It's  as  real  as  anything  to  me 
until  I  try  to  write  it  down.  I  was  thinking  about 
it  only  last  night  in  bed,  after  you  had  lent  me 
Treasure  Island  ;  and  I  made  up  a  whole  lot  of  new 
things  to  go  into  the  story.' 

'  What  sort  of  things  ? ' 

*  About  the  food  the  men  ate;   rotten  figs  and 
black  beans  and  wine  in  a  skin-bag,  passed  from 
bench  to  bench.' 

'  Was  the  ship  built  so  long  ago  as  that  ? ' 
'  As  what  ?    I  don't  know  whether  it  was  long 
ago  or  not.     It's  only  a  notion,  but  sometimes  it 
seems  just  as  real  as  if  it  was  true.    Do  I  bother 
you  with  talking  about  it  ? ' 


116  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

'Not  in  the  least.  Did  you  make  Tip  anything 
else?' 

'  Yes,  but  it's  nonsense.'    Charlie  flushed  a  little. 

'  Never  rnind  ;  let's  hear  about  it.' 

'  Well,  I  was  thinking  over  the  story,  and  after 
awhile  I  got  out  of  bed  and  wrote  down  on  a  piece 
of  paper  the  sort  of  stuff  the  men  might  be  supposed 
to  scratch  on  their  oars  with  the  edges  of  their  hand- 
cuffs. It  seemed  to  make  the  thing  more  life-like. 
It  is  so  real  to  me,  y'know.' 

'  Have  you  the  paper  on  you  ? ' 

'  Ye — es,  but  what's  the  use  of  showing  it  ?  It's 
only  a  lot  of  scratches.  All  the  same,  we  might 
have  'ein  reproduced  in  the  book  on  the  front 
page.' 

'  I'll  attend  to  those  details.  Show  me  what  your 
men  wrote.' 

He  pulled  out  of  his  pocket  a  sheet  of  notepaper, 
with  a  single  line  of  scratches  upon  it,  and  I  put  this 
carefully  away. 

'  What  is  it  supposed  to  mean  in  English  ? '  I 
said. 

'  Oh,  I  don't  know.  I  mean  it  to  mean  "  I'm 
beastly  tired."  It's  great  nonsense/  he  repeated, 
'  but  all  those  men  in  the  ship  seem  as  real  as  real 
people  to  me.  Do  do  something  to  the  notion  soon ; 
I  should  like  to  see  it  written  and  printed.' 

'  But  all  you've  told  me  would  make  a  long 
book.' 


'THE  FINEST  STORY  IN  THE  WORLD.'       117 

'Make  it  then.  You've  only  to  sit  down  and 
write  it  out.' 

'  Give  me  a  little  time.  Have  you  any  more  no- 
tions ? ' 

'Not  just  now.  I'm  reading  all  the  books  I've 
bought.  They're  splendid.' 

When  he  had  left  I  looked  at  the  sheet  of  note- 
paper  with  the  inscription  upon  it.  Then  I  took  my 
head  tenderly  between  both  hands,  to  make  certain 
that  it  was  not  coming  off  or  turning  round.  Then 
.  .  .  but  there  seemed  to  be  no  interval  between 
leaving  my  rooms  and  finding  myself  arguing  with 
a  policeman  outside  a  door  marked  Private  in  a 
corridor  of  the  British  Museum.  All  I  demanded, 
as  politely  as  possible,  was  'the  Greek  antiquity 
man/  The  policeman  knew  nothing  except  the 
rules  of  the  Museum,  and  it  became  necessary  to 
forage  through  all  the  houses  and  offices  inside 
the  gates.  An  elderly  gentleman  called  away  from 
his  lunch  put  an  end  to  my  search  by  holding 
the  notepaper  between  finger  and  thumb  and  sniff- 
ing at  it  scornfully. 

'  What  does  this  mean  ?  H'mm,'  said  he.  '  So 
far  as  I  can  ascertain  it  is  an  attempt  to  write  ex- 
tremely corrupt  Greek  on  the  part ' — here  he  glared 
at  me  with  intention — '  of  an  extremely  illiterate — 
ah — person.'  He  read  slowly  from  the  paper,  'Pol- 
lock, Erckmann,  Tauchnitz,  Henniker ' — four  names 
familiar  to  me. 


118  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

'Can  you  tell  me  what  the  corruption  is  sup- 
posed to  mean — the  gist  of  the  thing  ? '  I  asked. 

'  I  have  been — many  times — overcome  with  weari- 
ness in  this  particular  employment.  That  is  the 
meaning.'  He  returned  me  the  paper,  and  I  fled 
without  a  word  of  thanks,  explanation,  or  apology. 

I  might  have  been  excused  for  forgetting  much. 
To  me  of  all  men  had  been  given  the  chance  to  write 
the  most  marvellous  tale  in  the  world,  nothing  less 
than  the  story  of  a  Greek  galley-slave,  as  told  by 
himself.  Small  wonder  that  his  dreaming  had 
seemed  real  to  Charlie.  The  Fates  that  are  so 
careful  to  shut  the  doors  of  each  successive  life 
behind  us  had,  in  this  case,  been  neglectful,  arid 
Charlie  was  looking,  though  that  he  did  not  know, 
where  never  man  had  been  permitted  to  look  with 
full  knowledge  since  Time  began.  Above  all,  he 
was  absolutely  ignorant  of  the  knowledge  sold  to 
me  for  five  pounds ;  and  he  would  retain  that  igno- 
rance ;  for  bank-clerks  do  not  understand  metempsy- 
chosis, and  a  sound  commercial  education  does  not 
include  Greek.  He  would  supply  me — here  I  capered 
among  the  dumb  gods  of  Egypt  and  laughed  in  their 
battered  faces — with  material  to  make  my  tale  sure 
— so  sure  that  the  world  would  hail  it  as  an  impu- 
dent and  vamped  fiction.  And  I — I  alone  would 
know  that  it  was  absolutely  and  literally  true.  I — I 
alone  held  this  jewel  to  my  hand  for  the  cutting  and 
polishing.  Therefore  I  danced  again  among  the 


'THE  FINEST  STOEY  IN  THE  WORLD.'      119 

gods  of  the  Egyptian  court,  till  a  policeman  saw  me 
and  took  steps  in  my  direction. 

It  remained  now  only  to  encourage  Charlie  to 
talk,  and  here  there  was  no  difficulty.  But  I  had 
forgotten  those  accursed  books  of  poetry.  He  came 
to  me  time  after  time,  as  useless  as  a  surcharged 
phonograph — drunk  on  Byron,  Shelley,  or  Keats. 
Knowing  now  what  the  boy  had  been  in  his  past 
lives,  and  desperately  anxious  not  to  lose  one  word 
of  his  babble,  I  could  not  hide  from  him  my  respect 
and  interest.  He  misconstrued  both  into  respect  for 
the  present  soul  of  Charlie  Mears,  to  whom  life  was 
as  new  as  it  was  to  Adam,  and  interest  in  his  read- 
ings: he  stretched  my  patience  to  breaking  point 
by  reciting  poetry — not  his  own  now,  but  that  of 
others.  I  wished  every  English  poet  blotted  out  of 
the  memory  of  mankind.  I  blasphemed  the  mighti- 
est names  of  song  because  they  had  drawn  Charlie 
from  the  path  of  direct  narrative,  and  would,  later, 
spur  him  to  imitate  them ;  but  I  choked  down  my 
impatience  until  the  first  flood  of  enthusiasm 
should  have  spent  itself  and  the  boy  returned  to  his 
dreams. 

'  What's  the  use  of  my  telling  you  what  J  think, 
when  these  chaps  wrote  things  for  the  angels  to 
read  ? '  he  growled,  one  evening.  *  Why  don't  you 
write  something  like  theirs  ? ' 

'  I  don't  think  you're  treating  me  quite  fairly,'  I 
said,  speaking  under  strong  restraint. 


120  MANY  INVENTIONS. 

'  I've  given  you  the  story,'  lie  said  shortly,  re- 
plunging  into  *  Lara.' 

'  But  I  want  the  details.' 

'  The  things  I  make  up  about  that  damned  ship 
that  you  call  a  galley  ?  They're  quite  easy.  You 
can  just  make  'em  up  for  yourself.  Turn  up  the  gas 
a  little,  I  want  to  go  on  reading.' 

I  could  have  broken  the  gas-globe  over  his  head 
for  his  amazing  stupidity.  I  could  indeed  make  up 
things  for  myself  did  I  only  know  what  Charlie  did 
not  know  that  he  knew.  But  since  the  doors  were 
shut  behind  me  I  could  only  wait  his  youthful 
pleasure  and  strive  to  keep  him  in  good  temper. 
One  minute's  want  of  guard  might  spoil  a  priceless 
revelation :  now  and  again  he  would  toss  his  books 
aside — he  kept  them  in  my  rooms,  for  his  mother 
would  have  been  shocked  at  the  waste  of  good 
money  had  she  seen  them — and  launched  into  his 
sea  dreams.  Again  I  cursed  all  the  poets  of  Eng- 
land. The  plastic  mind  of  the  bank-clerk  had  been 
overlaid,  coloured,  and  distorted  by  that  which  he 
had  read,  and  the  result  as  delivered  was  a  confused 
tangle  of  other  voices  most  like  the  mutter  and  hum 
through  a  City  telephone  in  the  busiest  part  of  the 
day. 

He  talked  of  the  galley — his  own  galley  had  he 
but  known  it — with  illustrations  borrowed  from  the 
'Bride  of  Abydos.'  He  pointed  the  experiences  of 
his  hero  with  quotations  from  'The  Corsair/  and 


'THE  FINEST  STORY  IN  THE  WORLD.'      121 

threw  in  deep  and  desperate  moral  reflections  from 
'Cain'  and  ' Manfred/  expecting  me  to  use  them 
all.  Only  when  the  talk  turned  on  Longfellow 
were  the  jarring  cross-currents  dumb,  and  I  knew 
that  Charlie  was  speaking  the  truth  as  he  remem- 
bered it. 

'  What  do  you  think  of  this  ? '  I  said  one  evening, 
as  soon  as  I  understood  the  medium  in  which  his 
memory  worked  best,  and,  before  he  could  expostu- 
late, read  him  nearly  the  whole  of  '  The  Saga  of 
King  Olaf.' 

He  listened  open-mouthed,  flushed,  his  hands 
drumming  on  the  back  of  the  sofa  where  he  lay,  till 
I  came  to  the  Song  of  Einar  Tamberskelver  and  the 

verse : — 

'  Einar  then,  the  arrow  taking 
From  the  loosened  string, 
Answered,  "  That  was  Norway  breaking 
'Neath  thy  hand,  0  King." ' 

He  gasped  with  pure  delight  of  sound. 

'  That's  better  than  Byron,  a  little  ? '  I  ventured. 

' Better!  Why  it's  true!  How  could  he  have 
known  ? ' 

I  went  back  and  repeated : — 

' "  What  was  that  ?  "  said  Olaf,  standing 

On  the  quarter-deck, 
"  Something  heard  I  like  the  stranding 
Of  a  shattered  wreck." ' 

'  How  could  he  have  known  how  the  ships  crash 
and  the  oars  rip  out  and  go  z-zzp  all  along  the  line  ? 


122  MANY  INVENTIONS. 

Why  only  the  other  night  .  .  .  But  go  back  please 
and  read  "  The  Skerry  of  Shrieks  "  again/ 

'  No,  Fm  tired.  Let's  talk.  What  happened  the 
other  night  ? ' 

'  I  had  an  awful  dream  about  that  galley  of  ours. 
I  dreamed  I  was  drowned  in  a  fight.  You  see  we 
ran  alongside  another  ship  in  harbour.  The  water 
was  dead  still  except  where  our  oars  whipped  it  up. 
You  know  where  I  always  sit  in  the  galley  ? '  He 
spoke  haltingly  at  first,  under  the  fine  English  fear 
of  being  laughed  at. 

'  No.  That's  news  to  me/  I  answered  meekly,  my 
heart  beginning  to  beat. 

'On  the  fourth  oar  from  the  bow  on  the  right 
side  on  the  upper  deck.  There  were  four  of  us  at 
that  oar,  all  chained.  I  remember  watching  the 
water  and  trying  to  get  my  handcuffs  off  before  the 
row  began.  Then  we  closed  up  on  the  other  ship, 
and  all  their  fighting  men  jumped  over  our  bul- 
warks, and  my  bench  broke  and  I  was  pinned  down 
with  the  three  other  fellows  on  top  of  me,  and  the 
big  oar  jammed  across  our  backs/ 

'  Well  ? '  Charlie's  eyes  were  alive  and  alight. 
He  was  looking  at  the  wall  behind  my  chair. 

'  I  don't  know  how  we  fought.  The  men  were 
trampling  all  over  my  back,  and  I  lay  low.  Then 
our  rowers  on  the  left  side — tied  to  their  oars,  you 
know — began  to  yell  and  back  water.  I  could  hear 
the  water  sizzle,  and  we  spun  round  like  a  cock- 


'THE  FINEST  STORY  IN  THE  WOELD.'      123 

chafer  and  I  knew,  lying  where  I  was,  that  there 
was  a  galley  coming  up  bow-on,  to  ram  us  on  the 
left  side.  I  could  just  lift  up  my  head  and  see  her 
sail  over  the  bulwarks.  We  wanted  to  meet  her 
bow  to  bow,  but  it  was  too  late.  We  could  only 
turn  a  little  bit  because  the  galley  on  our  right  had 
hooked  herself  on  to  us  and  stopped  our  moving. 
Then,  by  gum !  there  was  a  crash !  Our  left  oars 
began  to  break  as  the  other  galley,  the  moving  one 
y'know,  stuck  her  nose  into  them.  Then  the  lower- 
deck  oars  shot  up  through  the  deck  planking,  butt 
first,  and  one  of  them  jumped  clear  up  into  the  air 
and  came  down  again  close  at  my  head/ 

'  How  was  that  managed  ? ' 

'The  moving  galley's  bow  was  plunking  them 
back  through  their  own  oar-holes,  and  I  could  hear 
no  end  of  a  shindy  in  the  decks  below.  Then  her 
nose  caught  us  nearly  in  the  middle,  and  we  tilted 
sideways,  and  the  fellows  in  the  right-hand  galley 
unhitched  their  hooks  and  ropes,  and  threw  things 
on  to  our  upper  deck — arrows,  and  hot  pitch  or 
something  that  stung,  and  we  went  up  and  up  on 
the  left  side,  and  the  right  side  dipped,  and  I  twisted 
my  head  round  and  saw  the  water  stand  still  as  it 
topped  the  right  bulwarks ;  and  then  it  curled  over 
and  crashed  down  on  the  whole  lot  of  us  on  the 
right  side,  and  I  felt  it  hit  my  back,  and  I  woke/ 

'  One  minute,  Charlie.  When  the  sea  topped  the 
bulwarks,  what  did  it  look  like  ? '  I  had  my  reasons 


124  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

for  asking.  A  man  of  my  acquaintance  had  once 
gone  down  with  a  leaking  ship  in  a  still  sea,  and  had 
seen  the  water-level  pause  for  an  instant  ere  it  fell 
on  the  deck. 

'  It  looked  just  like  a  banjo-string  drawn  tight, 
and  it  seemed  to  stay  there  for  years/  said  Charlie. 

Exactly !  The  other  man  had  said :  '  It  looked 
like  a  silver  wire  laid  down  along  the  bulwarks,  and 
I  thought  it  was  never  going  to  break/  He  had 
paid  everything  except  the  bare  life  for  this  little 
valueless  piece  of  knowledge,  and  I  had  travelled 
ten  thousand  weary  miles  to  meet  him  and  take  his 
knowledge  at  second  hand.  But  Charlie,  the  bank- 
clerk  on  twenty-five  shillings  a  week,  who  had 
never  been  out  of  sight  of  a  made  road,  knew  it  all. 
It  was  no  consolation  to  me  that  once  in  his  lives  he 
had  been  forced  to  die  for  his  gains.  I  also  must 
have  died  scores  of  times,  but  behind  me,  because 
I  could  have  used  my  knowledge,  the  doors  were 
shut! 

'  And  then  ? '  I  said,  trying  to  put  away  the  devil 
of  envy. 

'  The  funny  thing  was,  though,  in  all  the  row  I 
didn't  feel  a  bit  astonished  or  frightened.  It  seemed 
as  if  Fd  been  in  a  good  many  fights,  because  I  told 
my  next  man  so  when  the  row  began.  But  that  cad 
of  an  overseer  on  my  deck  wouldn't  unloose  our 
chains  and  give  us  a  chance.  He  always  said  that 
we'd  all  be  set  free  after  a  battle,  but  we  never 


'THE  FINEST  STORY   IN   THE   WORLD.' 

were ;  we  never  were.'  Charlie  .shook  his  head 
mournfully. 

'  What  a  scoundrel ! ' 

'  I  should  say  he  was.  He  never  gave  us  enough 
to  eat,  and  sometimes  we  were  so  thirsty  that  we 
used  to  drink  salt-water.  I  can  taste  that  salt-water 
still/ 

'  Now  tell  me  something  about  the  harbour  where 
the  fight  was  fought.' 

'  I  didn't  dream  about  that.  I  know  it  was  a  har- 
bour though ;  because  we  were  tied  up  to  a  ring  on  a 
white  wall  and  all  the  face  of  the  stone  under  water 
was  covered  with  wood  to  prevent  our  ram  getting 
chipped  when  the  tide  made  us  rock.' 

'  That's  curious.  Our  hero  commanded  the  gal- 
ley, didn't  he  ?' 

' Didn't  he  just!  He  stood  by  the  bows  and 
shouted  like  a  good  'un.  He  was  the  man  who  killed 
the  overseer.' 

'But  you  were  all  drowned  together,  Charlie, 
weren't  you  ? ' 

'  I  can't  make  that  fit  quite,'  he  said,  with  a  puz- 
zled look.  '  The  galley  must  have  gone  down  with 
all  hands,  and  yet  I  fancy  that  the  hero  went  on  liv- 
ing afterwards.  Perhaps  he  climbed  into  the  attack- 
ing ship.  I  wouldn't  see  that,  of  course.  I  was  dead, 
you  know.' 

He  shivered  slightly  and  protested  that  he  could 
remember  no  more. 


126  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

I  did  not  press  him  further,  but  to  satisfy  myself 
that  he  lay  in  ignorance  of  the  workings  of  his  own 
mind,  deliberately  introduced  him  to  Mortimer  Col- 
lins's  Transmigration,  and  gave  him  a  sketch  of  the 
plot  before  he  opened  the  pages. 

'  What  rot  it  all  is ! '  he  said  frankly,  at  the  end 
of  an  hour.  '  I  don't  understand  his  nonsense  about 
the  Red  Planet  Mars  and  the  King,  and  the  rest  of 
it.  Chuck  me  the  Longfellow  again/ 

I  handed  him  the  book  and  wrote  out  as  much  as 
I  could  remember  of  his  description  of  the  sea- 
fight,  appealing  to  him  from  time  to  time  for  con- 
firmation of  fact  or  detail.  He  would  answer  with- 
out raising  his  eyes  from  the  book,  as  assuredly  as 
though  all  his  knowledge  lay  before  him  on  the 
printed  page.  I  spoke  under  the  normal  key  of  my 
voice  that  the  current  might  not  be  broken,  and  I 
know  that  he  was  not  aware  of  what  he  was  saying, 
for  his  thoughts  were  out  on  the  sea  with  Long- 
fellow. 

'  Charlie,'  I  asked,  '  when  the  rowers  on'  the  gal- 
leys mutinied  how  did  they  kill  their  overseers  ?' 

'Tore  up  the  benches  and  brained  'em.  That 
happened  when  a  heavy  sea  was  running.  An  over- 
seer on  the  lower  deck  slipped  from  the  centre  plank 
and  fell  among  the  rowers.  They  choked  him  to 
death  against  the  side  of  the  ship  with  their  chained 
hands  quite  quietly,  and  it  was  too  dark  for  the  other 
overseer  to  see  what  had  happened.  When  lie  asked 


'THE  FINEST  STOEY  IN  THE  WORLD.'       127 

he  was  pulled  down  too  and  choked,  and  the  lower 
deck  fought  their  way  up  deck  by  deck,  with  the 
pieces  of  the  broken  benches  banging  behind  'em. 
How  they  howled ! ' 

'  And  what  happened  after  that  ? ' 

'  I  don't  know.  The  hero  went  away — red  hair 
and  red  beard  and  all.  That  was  after  he  had  cap- 
tured our  galley,  I  think/ 

The  sound  of  my  voice  irritated  him,  and  he  mo- 
tioned slightly  with  his  left  hand  as  a  man  does 
when  interruption  jars. 

'  You  never  told  me  he  was  red-headed  before,  or 
that  he  captured  your  galley,'  I  said,  after  a  discreet 
interval. 

Charlie  did  not  raise  his  eyes. 

'  He  was  as  red  as  a  red  bear/  said  he  abstract- 
edly. '  He  came  from  the  north ;  they  said  so  in  the 
galley  when  he  looked  for  rowers — not  for  slaves, 
but  free  men.  Afterwards — years  and  years  after- 
wards— news  came  from  another  ship,  or  else  he 
came  back ' 

His  lips  moved  in  silence.  He  was  rapturously 
retasting  some  poem  before  him. 

'  Where  had  he  been,  then  ? '  I  was  almost  whis- 
pering that  the  sentence  might  come  gently  to  which- 
ever section  of  Charlie's  brain  that  was  working  on 
my  behalf. 

'To  the  Beaches — the  Long  and  Wonderful 
Beeches  ! '  was  the  reply  after  a  minute  of  silence. 


128  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

*  To  Furdurstrandi  ? '  I  asked,  tingling  from  head 
to  foot. 

'  Yes,  to  Furdurstrandi/  he  pronounced  the  word 

in  a  new  fashion.  '  And  I  too  saw '  The  voice 

failed. 

'  Do  you  know  what  you  have  said  ? '  I  shouted 
incautiously. 

He  lifted  his  eyes,  fully  roused  now.  '  No  ! '  he 
snapped.  '  I  wish  you'd  let  a  chap  go  on  reading. 
Hark  to  this : — 

' "  But  Othere,  the  old  sea-captain, 
He  neither  paused  nor  stirred 
Till  the  king  listened,  and  then 
Once  more  took  up  his  pen 
And  wrate  down  every  word. 

' "  And  to  the  King  of  the  Saxons 
In  witness  of  the  truth, 
Raising  his  noble  head, 
He  stretched  his  brown  hand  and  said, 
'  Behold  this  walrus  tooth.'  " 

By  Jove,  what  chaps  those  must  have  been,  to  go 
sailing  all  over  the  shop  never  knowing  where  they'd 
fetch  the  land  !  Hah!' 

'  Charlie,'  I  pleaded, '  if  you'll  only  be  sensible  for 
a  minute  or  two  I'll  make  our  hero  in  our  tale  every 
inch  as  good  as  Othere/ 

'  Umph !  Longfellow  wrote  that  poem.  I  don't 
care  about  writing  things  any  more.  I  want  to  read.' 
He  was  thoroughly  out  of  tune  now,  and  raging  over 
my  own  ill-luck,  I  left  him. 


'THE  FINEST  STOKY  IN  THE  WOKLD.'      129 

Conceive  yourself  at  the  door  of  the  world's 
treasure-house  guarded  by  a  child — an  idle  irre- 
sponsible child  playing  knuckle-bones — on  whose 
favour  depends  the  gift  of  the  key,  and  you  will 
imagine  one-half  my  torment.  Till  that  .evening 
Charlie  had  spoken  nothing  that  might  not  lie 
within  the  experiences  of  a'  Greek  galley-slave. 
But  now,  or  there  was  no  virtue  in  books,  he  had 
talked  of  some  desperate  adventure  of  the  Vikings, 
of  Thorfin  Karlsefne's  sailing  to  Wineland,  which 
is  America,  in  the  ninth  or  tenth  century.  The 
battle  in  the  harbour  he  had  seen;  and  his  own 
death  he  had  described.  But  this  was  a  much  more 
startling  plunge  into  the  past.  Was  it  possible  that 
he  had  skipped  half  a  dozen  lives  and  was  then 
dimly  remembering  some  episode  of  a  thousand 
years  later  ?  It  was  a  maddening  jumble,  and  the 
worst  of  it  was  that  Charlie  Hears  in  his  normal 
condition  was  the  last  person  in  the  world  to  clear 
it  up.  I  could  only  wait  and  watch,  but  I  went  to 
bed  that  night  full  of  the  wildest  imaginings. 
There  was  nothing  that  was  not  possible  if  Charlie's 
detestable  memory  only  held  good. 

I  might  rewrite  the  Saga  of  Thorfin  Karlsefne  as 
it  had  never  been  written  before,  might  tell  the 
story  of  the  first  discovery  of  America,  myself  the 
discoverer.  But  I  was  entirely  at.  Charlie's  mercy, 
and  so  long  as  there  was  a  three-and-sixpenny  Bohn 
volume  within  his  reach  Charlie  would  not  tell.  I 


130  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

dared  not  curse  him  openly  ;  I  hardly  dared  jog  his 
memory,  for  I  was  dealing  with  the  experiences  of  a 
thousand  years  ago,  told  through  the  mouth  of  a 
boy  of  to-day ;  and  a  boy  of  to-day  is  affected  by 
every  change  of  tone  and  gust  of  opinion,  so  that 
he  must  lie  even  when  he  most  desires  to  speak  the 
truth. 

I  saw  no  more  of  Charlie  for  nearly  a  week. 
When  next  I  met  him  it  was  in  Gracechurch  Street 
with  a  bill-book  chained  to  his  waist.  Business 
took  him  over  London  Bridge,  and  I  accompanied 
him.  He  was  very  full  of  the  importance  of  that 
book  and  magnified  it.  As  we  passed  over  the 
Thames  we  paused  to  look  at  a  steamer  unloading 
great  slabs  of  white  and  brown  marble.  A  barge 
drifted  under  the  steamer's  stern  and  a  lonely  ship's 
cow  in  that  barge  bellowed.  Charlie's  face  changed 
from  the  face  of  the  bank-clerk  to  that  of  an  un- 
known and — though  he  would  not  have  believed 
this — a  much  shrewder  man.  He  flung  out  his  arm 
across  the  parapet  of  the  bridge  and  laughing  very 
loudly,  said : — 

'When  they  heard  our  bulls  bellow  the  Skrce- 
lings  ran  away ! ' 

I  waited  only  for  an  instant,  but  the  barge  and 
the  cow  had  disappeared  under  the  bows  of  the 
steamer  before  I  answered. 

'  Charlie,  what  do  you  suppose  are  Skroelings  ? ' 

'  Never  heard  of  'em  before.    They  sound  like  a 


'THE  FINEST   STORY   IN  THE  WORLD.'         131 

new  kind  of  sea-gull.  What  a  chap  you  are  for 
asking  questions ! '  he  replied.  *  I  have  to  go  to 
the  cashier  of  the  Omnibus  Company  yonder.  Will 
you  wait  for  me  and  we  can  lunch  somewhere  to- 
gether ?  I've  a  notion  for  a  poem/ 

'  No,  thanks.  I'm  off.  You're  sure  you  know 
nothing  about  Skroelings  ? ' 

'  Not  unless  he's  been  entered  for  the  Liverpool 
Handicap/  He  nodded  and  disappeared  in  the 
crowd. 

Now  it  is  written  in  the  Saga  of  Eric  the  Red  or 
that  of  Thorfin  Karlsefne,  that  nine  hundred  years 
ago  when  Karlsefne's  galleys  came  to  Leif's  booths, 
which  Leif  had  erected  in  the  unknown  land  called 
Markland,  which  may  or  may  not  have  been  Rhode 
Island,  the  Skroelings — and  the  Lord  He  knows  who 
these  may  or  may  not  have  been — came  to  trade 
with  the  Vikings,  and  ran  away  because  they  were 
frightened  at  the  bellowing  of  the  cattle  which 
Thorfin  had  brought  with  him  in  the  ships.  But 
what  in  the  world  could  a  Greek  slave  know  of 
that  affair  ?  I  wandered  up  and  down  among  the 
streets  trying  to  unravel  the  mystery,  and  the  more 
I  considered  it,  the  more  baffling  it  grew.  One  thing 
only  seemed  certain,  and  that  certainty  took  away 
my  breath  for  the  moment.  If  I  came  to  full 
knowledge  of  anything  at  all,  it  would  not  be  one 
life  of  the  soul  in  Charlie  Mears's  body,  but  half 
a  dozen — half  a  dozen  several  and  separate  exist- 


132  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

ences  spent  on  blue  water  in  the  morning  of  the 
world ! 

Then  I  walked  round  the  situation. 

Obviously  if  I  used  my  knowledge  I  should  stand 
alone  and  unapproachable  until  all  men  were  as  wise 
as  myself.  That  would  be  something,  but  manlike 
I  was  ungrateful.  It  seemed  bitterly  unfair  that 
Charlie's  memory  should  fail  me  when  I  needed  it 
most.  Great  Powers  above — I  looked  up  at  them 
through  the  fog  smoke — did  the  Lords  of  Life  and 
Death  know  what  this  meant  to  me  ?  Nothing  less 
than  eternal  fame  of  the  best  kind,  that  comes  from 
One,  and  is  shared  by  one  alone.  I  would  be  content 
— remembering  Olive,  I  stood  astounded  at  my  own 
moderation, — with  the  mere  right  to  tell  one  story, 
to  work  out  one  little  contribution  to  the  light  liter- 
ature of  the  day.  If  Charlie  were  permitted  full 
recollection  for  one  hour — for  sixty  short  minutes — 
of  existences  that  had  extended  over  a  thousand 
years — I  would  forego  all  profit  and  honour  from 
all  that  I  should  make  of  his  speech.  I  would  take 
no  share  in  the  commotion  that  would  follow 
throughout  the  particular  corner  of  the  earth  that 
calls  itself  'the  world/  The  thing  should  be  put 
forth  anonymously.  Nay,  I  would  make  other  men 
believe  that  they  had  written  it.  They  would  hire 
bull-hided  self -advertising  Englishmen  to  bellow 
it  abroad.  Preachers  would  found  a  fresh  conduct 
of  life  upon  it,  swearing  that  it  was  new  and  that 


'THE  FINEST  STOKY  IN  THE  WOBLD.'      133 

they  had  lifted  the  fear  of  death  from  all  mankind. 
Every  Orientalist  in  Europe  would  patronise  it 
discursively  with  Sanskrit  and  Pali  texts.  Terrible 
women  would  invent  unclean  variants  of  the  men's 
"belief  for  the  elevation  of  their  sisters.  Churches 
and  religions  would  war  over  it.  Between  the  hail- 
ing and  re-starting  of  an  omnibus  I  foresaw  the 
scuffles  that  would  arise  among  half  a  dozen  de- 
nominations all  professing  *  the  doctrine  of  the  True 
Metempsychosis  as  applied  to  the  world  and  the 
New  Era;'  and  saw,  too,  the  respectable  English 
newspapers  shying,  like  frightened  kine  over  the 
beautiful  simplicity  of  the  tale.  The  mind  leaped 
forward  a  hundred  —  two  hundred  —  a  thousand 
years.  I  saw  with  sorrow  that  men  would  mutilate 
and  garble  the  story  ;  that  rival  creeds  would  turn 
it  upside  down  till,  at  last,  the  western  world  which 
clings  to  the  dread  of  death  more  closely  than  the 
hope  of  life,  would  set  it  aside  as  an  interesting 
superstition  and  stampede  after  some  faith  so  long 
forgotten  that  it  seemed  altogether  new.  Upon  this 
I  changed  the  terms  of  the  bargain  that  I  would 
make  with  the  Lords  of  Life  and  Death.  Only 
let  me  know,  let  me  write,  the  story  with  sure 
knowledge  that  I  wrote  the  truth,  and  I  would 
burn  the  manuscript  as  a  solemn  sacrifice.  Five 
minutes  after  the  last  line  was  written  I  would 
destroy  it  all.  But  I  must  be  allowed  to  write  it 
with  absolute  certainty. 


134  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

There  was  no  answer.  The  flaming  colours  of  an 
Aquarium  poster  caught  my  eye,  and  I  wondered 
whether  it  would  be  wise  or  prudent  to  lure  Charlie 
into  the  hands  of  the  professional  mesmerist  there, 
and  whether,  if  he  were  under  his  power,  he  would 
speak  of  his  past  lives.  If  he  did,  and  if  people  be- 
lieved him  .  .  .  but  Charlie  would  be  frightened  and 
fluttered,  or  made  conceited  by  the  interviews.  In 
either  case  he  would  begin  to  lie,  through  fear  or 
vanity.  He  was  safest  in  my  own  hands. 

*  They  are  very  funny  fools,  your  English/  said  a 
voice  at  my  elbow,  and  turning  round  I  recognised  a 
casual  acquaintance,  a  young  Bengali  law  student, 
called  Grish  Chunder,  whose  father  had  sent  him  to 
England  to  become  civilised.  The  old  man  was  a 
retired  native  official,  and  on  an.  income  of  five 
pounds  a  month  contrived  to  allow  his  son  two 
hundred  pounds  a  year,  and  the  run  of  his  teeth  in 
a  city  where  he  could  pretend  to  be  the  cadet  of  a 
royal  house,  and  tell  stories  of  the  brutal  Indian 
bureaucrats  who  ground  the  faces  of  the  poor. 

Grish  Chunder  was  a  young,  fat,  full-bodied  Ben- 
gali, dressed  with  scrupulous  care  in  frock-coat,  tall 
hat,  light  trousers,  and  tan  gloves.  But  I  had  known 
him  in  the  days  when  the  brutal  Indian  Government 
paid  for  his  university  education,  and  he  contributed 
cheap  sedition  to  Sachi  Durpan,  and  intrigued  with 
the  wives  of  his  fourteen-year-old  schoolmates. 

'That  is  very  funny  and  very  foolish,'  he  said 


'THE  FINEST  STORY  IN  THE  WOULD.'      135 

nodding  at  the  poster.  *I  am  going  down  to  the 
Northbrook  Club.  Will  you  come  too  ? ' 

I  walked  with  him  for  some  time.  *  You  are  not 
well/  he  said.  '  What  is  there  on  your  mind  ?  You 
do  not  talk.' 

'  Grish  Chunder,  you've  been  too  well  educated  to 
believe  in  a  God,  haven't  you  ? ' 

*  Oah,  yes,  here  !  But  when  I  go  home  I  must 
conciliate  popular  superstition,  and  make  ceremonies 
of  purification,  and  my  women  will  anoint  idols.' 

'  And  hang  up  tulsi  and  feast  the  puroliit,  and 
take  you  back  into  caste  again  and  make  a  good 
khuttri  of  you  again,  you  advanced  social  Free- 
thinker. And  you'll  eat  desi  food,  and  like  it  all, 
from  the  smell  in  the  courtyard  to  the  mustard  oil 
over  you.' 

'  I  shall  very  much  like  it,'  said  Grish  Chunder 
unguardedly.  *  Once  a  Hindu — always  a  Hindu. 
But  I  like  to  know  what  the  English  think  they 
know.' 

Til  tell  you  something  that  one  Englishman 
knows.  It's  an  old  tale  to  you.' 

I  began  to  tell  the  story  of  Charlie  in  English, 
but  Grish  Chunder  put  a  question  in  the  vernacular, 
and  the  history  went  forward  naturally  in  the  tongue 
best  suited  for  its  telling.  After  all,  it/  could  never 
have  been  told  in  English.  Grish  Chunder  heard 
me,  nodding  from  time  to  time,  and  then  came  up 
to  my  rooms,  where  I  finished  the  tale. 


136  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

'  Besliak,'  he  said  philosophically.  '  Lelcin  dar- 
waza  band  hai.  (Without  doubt,  but  the  door  is 
shut.)  I  have  heard  of  this  remembering  of  previ- 
ous existences  among  my  people.  It  is  of  course  an 
old  tale  with  us,  but,  to  happen  to  an  Englishman — 
a  cow-fed  Mlechh — an  outcast.  By  Jove,  that  is  most 
peculiar ! ' 

'  Outcast  yourself,  Grish  Chunder !  You  eat  cow- 
beef  every  day.  Let's  think  the  thing  over.  The 
boy  remembers  his  incarnations/ 

'  Does  he  know  that  ? '  said  Grish  Chunder  quietly, 
swinging  his  legs  as  he  sat  on  my  table.  He  was 
speaking  in  his  English  now. 

'  He  does  not  know  anything.  Would  I  speak  to 
you  if  he  did  ?  Go  on ! ' 

'  There  is  no  going  on  at  all.  If  you  tell  that  to 
your  friends  they  will  say  you  are  mad  and  put  it  in 
the  papers.  Suppose,  now,  you  prosecute  for  libel.' 

1  Let's  leave  that  out  of  the  question  entirely.  Is 
there  any  chance  of  his  being  made  to  speak  ? ' 

*  There  is  a  chance.    Oah,  yess !    But  if  he  spoke 
it  would  mean  that  all  this  world  would  end  now — 
instanto — fall  down  on  your  head.    These  things  are 
not  allowed,  you  know.    As  I  said,  the  door  is  shut/ 

'  Not  a  ghost  of  a  chance  ? ' 

*  How  can  there  be  ?    You  are  a  Christi-^n,  and 
it  is  forbidden  to  eat,  in  your  books,  of  the  Tree  of 
Life,  or  else  you  would  never  die.    How  shall  you  all 
fear  death  if  you  all  know  what  your  friend  does  not 


'THE  FINEST  STOKY  IN  THE  WORLD.'      137 

know  that  lie  knows  ?  I  am  afraid  to  be  kicked,  but 
I  am  not  afraid  to  die,  because  I  know  what  I  know. 
You  are  not  afraid  to  be  kicked,  but  you  are  afraid 
to  die.  If  you  were  not,  by  God !  you  English  would 
be  all  over  the  shop  in  an  hour,  upsetting  the  bal- 
ances of  power,  and  making  commotions.  It  would 
not  be  good.  But  no  fear.  He  will  remember  a  little 
and  a  little  less,  and  he  will  call  it  dreams.  Then  he 
will  forget  altogether.  When  I  passed  my  First  Arts 
Examination  in  Calcutta  that  was  all  in  the  cram- 
book  on  Wordsworth.  "  Trailing  clouds  of  glory," 
you  know.' 

'  This  seems  to  be  an  exception  to  the  rule.' 

'  There  are  no  exceptions  to  rules.  Some  are  not 
so  hard-looking  as  others,  but  they  are  all  the  same 
when  you  touch.  If  this  friend  of  yours  said  so-and- 
so  and  so-and-so,  indicating  that  he  remembered  all 
his  lost  lives,  or  one  piece  of  a  lost  life,  he  would  not 
be  in  the  bank  another  hour.  He  would  be  what  you 
called  sack  because  he  was  mad,  and  they  would  send 
him  to  an  asylum  for  lunatics.  You  can  see  that,  my 
friend.' 

'  Of  course  I  can,  but  I  wasn't  thinking  of  him. 
His  name  need  never  appear  in  the  story.' 

'Ah!  I  see.  That  story  will  never  be  written. 
You  can  try.' 

*  I  am  going  to.' 

'  For  your  own  credit  and  for  the  sake  of  money, 
of  course  ? ' 


138  MANY  INVENTIONS. 

'  No.  For  the  sake  of  writing  the  story.  On  my 
honour  that  will  be  all/ 

'  Even  then  there  is  no  chance.  You  cannot  play 
with  the  Gods.  It  is  a  very  pretty  story  now.  As 
they  say,  Let  it  go  on  that — I  mean  at  that.  Be 
quick ;  he  will  not  last  long.' 

'  How  do  you  mean  ? ' 

'What  I  say.  He  has  never,  so  far,  thought 
about  a  woman.' 

'Hasn't  he,  though!'  I  remembered  some  of 
Charlie's  confidences. 

'I  mean  no  woman  has  thought  about  him. 
When  that  comes;  bits — hogya — all  up!  I  know. 
There  are  millions  of  women  here.  Housemaids, 
for  instance.  They  kiss  you  behind  doors.' 

I  winced  at  the  thought  of  my  story  being  ruined 
by  a  housemaid.  And  yet  nothing  was  more  probable. 

Grish  Chunder  grinned. 

'  Yes — also  pretty  girls — cousins  of  his  house, 
and  perhaps  not  of  his  house.  One  kiss  that  he 
gives  back  again  and  remembers  will  cure  all  this 
nonsense,  or  else ' 

'  Or  else  what  ?  Remember  he  does  not  know 
that  he  knows/ 

'  I  know  that.  Or  else,  if  nothing  happens  he  will 
become  immersed  in  the  trade  and  the  financial 
speculations  like  the  rest.  It  must  be  so.  You  can 
see  that  it  must  be  so.  But  the  woman  will  come 
first,  /  think/ 


'THE  FINEST  STORY  IN  THE  WORLD.'      139 

There  was  a  rap  at  the  door,  and  Charlie  charged 
in  impetuously.  He  had  been  released  from  office ; 
and  by  the  look  in  his  eyes  I  could  see  that  he  had 
come  over  for  a  long  talk;  most  probably  with 
poems  in  his  pockets.  Charlie's  poems  were  very 
wearying,  but  sometimes  they  led  him  to  talk  about 
the  galley. 

Grish  Chunder  looked  at  him  keenly  for  a 
minute. 

( I  beg  your  pardon,'  Charlie  said  uneasily ;  '  I 
didn't  know  you  had  any  one  with  you/ 

'  I  am  going/  said  Grish  Chunder. 

He  drew  me  into  the  lobby  as  he  departed. 

'  That  is  your  man,'  he  said  quickly.  '  I  tell  you 
he  will  never  speak  all  you  wish.  That  is  rot — bosh ! 
But  he  would  be  most  good  to  make  to  see  things. 
Suppose  now  we  pretend  that  it  was  only  play ' — I 
had  never  seen  Grish  Chunder  so  excited — '  and  pour 
the  ink-pool  into  his  hand.  Eh,  what  do  you  think  ? 
I  tell  you  that  he  could  see  anything  that  a  man 
could  see.  Let  me  get  the  ink  and  the  camphor.  He 
is  a  seer  and  he  will  tell  us  very  many  things/ 

'  He  may  be  all  you  say,  but  I'm  not  going  to 
trust  him  to  your  gods  and  devils/ 

'  They  will  not  hurt  him.  He  will  only  feel  a  lit- 
stupid  and  dull  when  he  wakes  up.  You  have  seen 
boys  look  into  the  ink-pool  before/ 

'  That  is  the  reason  why  I  am  not  going  to  see  it 

any  more.    You'd  better  go,  Grish  Chunder/ 
10 


140  MANY  INVENTIONS. 

He  went,  insisting  far  down  the  staircase  that  it 
was  throwing  away  my  only  chance  of  looking  into 
the  future. 

This  left  me  unmoved,  for  I  was  concerned  for 
the  past,  and  no  peering  of  hypnotised  boys  into 
mirrors  and  ink-pools  would  help  me  to  that.  But  I 
recognised  Grish  Chunder's  point  of  view  and  sym- 
pathised with  it. 

'  What  a  big  black  brute  that  was ! '  said  Charlie, 
when  I  returned  to  him.  '  Well,  look  here,  I've  just 
done  a  poem ;  did  it  instead  of  playing  dominoes 
after  lunch.  May  I  read  it  ? ' 

'  Let  me  read  it  to  myself/ 

*  Then  you  miss  the  proper  expression.  Besides, 
you  always  make  my  things  sound  as  if  the  rhymes 
were  all  wrong/ 

'  Read  it  aloud,  then.    You're  like  the  rest  of  'em/ 

Charlie  mouthed  me  his  poem,  and  it  was  not 
much  worse  than  the  average  of  his  verses.  He  had 
been  reading  his  books  faithfully,  but  he  was  not 
pleased  when  I  told  him  that  I  preferred  my  Long- 
fellow undiluted  with  Charlie. 

Then  we  began  to  go  through  the  MS.  line  by 
line;  Charlie  parrying  every  objection  and  correc- 
tion with : 

'Yes,  that  may  be  better,  but  you  don't  catch 
what  I'm  driving  at/ 

Charlie  was,  in  one  way  at  least,  very  like  one 
kind  of  poet. 


'THE  FINEST  STOEY  IN  THE  WOELD.'      141 

There  was  a  pencil  scrawl  at  the  back  of  the 
paper  and  '  What's  that  ? '  I  said. 

'Oh,  that's  not  poetry  at  all.  It's  some  rot  I 
wrote  last  night  before  I  went  to  bed,  and  it  was  too 
much  bother  to  hunt  for  rhymes ;  so  I  made  it  a  sort 
of  blank  verse  instead/ 

Here  is  Charlie's  '  blank  verse ' : — 

'  We  pulled  for  you  when  the  wind  was  against  us  and  the  sails 
were  low. 

Will  you  never  let  us  go  ? 

We  ate  bread  and  onions  when  you  took  towns  or  ran  aboard 
quickly  when  you  were  beaten  back  by  the  foe, 

The  captains  walked  up  and  down  the  deck  in  fair  weather 
singing  songs,  but  we  were  below, 

We  fainted  with  our  chins  on  the  oars  and   you  did  not  see 
that  we  were  idle  for  we  still  swung  to  and  fro. 
Will  you  never  let  us  go  ? 

The  salt  made  the  oar-handles  like  shark-skin ;  our  knees  were 
cut  to  the  bone  with  salt  cracks ;  our  hair  was  stuck  to  our  fore- 
heads ;  and  our  lips  were  cut  to  our  gums  and  you  whipped  us 
because  we  could  not  row. 

Will  you  never  let  us  go  9 

But  in  a  little  time  we  shall  run  out  of  the  portholes  as  the 
water  runs  along  the  oar-blade,  and  though  you  tell  the  others  to 
row  after  us  you  will  never  catch  us  till  you  catch  the  oar-thresh 
and  tie  up  the  winds  in  the  belly  of  the  sail.    Aho ! 
Will  you  never  let  us  go  ? ' 

'  H'm.     What's  oar-thresh,  Charlie  ? ' 

'  The  water  washed  up  by  the  oars.    That's  the 

sort  of  song  they  might  sing  in  the  galley  y'  know. 

Aren't  you  ever  going  to  finish  that  story  and  give 

me  some  of  the  profits  ? ' 

'  It  depends  on  yourself..    If  you  had  only  told 


142  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

me  more  about  your  hero  in  the  first  instance  it 
might  have  been  finished  by  now.  You're  so  hazy 
in  your  notions.' 

'  I  only  want  to  give  you  the  general  notion  of  it 
; — the  knocking  about  from  place  to  place  and  the 
fighting  and  all  that.  Can't  you  fill  in  the  rest 
yourself  ?  Make  the  hero  save  a  girl  on  a  pirate- 
galley  and  marry  her  or  do  something.' 

'  You're  a  really  helpful  collaborator.  I  suppose 
the  hero  went  through  some  few  adventures  before 
he  married.' 

*  Well,  then,  make  him  a  very  artful  card — a  low 
sort  of  man — a  sort  of  political  man  who  went  about 
making  treaties  and  breaking  them — a  black-haired 
chap  who  hid  behind  the  mast  when  the  fighting 
began.' 

'  But  you  said  the  other  day  that  he  was  red- 
haired/ 

'I  couldn't  have.  Make  him  black-haired  of 
course.  You've  no  imagination.' 

Seeing  that  I  had  just  discovered  the  entire  prin- 
ciples upon  which  our  half-memory  falsely  called 
imagination  is  based,  I  felt  entitled  to  laugh,  but 
forbore,  for  the  sake  of  the  tale. 

'You're  right.  You're  the  man  with  imagina- 
tion. A  black-haired  chap  in  a  decked  ship,'  I 
said. 

'  No,  an  open  ship — like  a  big  boat.' 

This  was  maddening. 


'THE  FINEST  STOKY  IN  THE  WORLD.'      143 

'  Your  ship  has  been  built  and  designed,  closed 
and  decked  in  ;  you  said  so  yourself/  I  protested. 

'  No,  no,  not  that  ship.  That  was  open  or  half- 
decked  because By  Jove  you're  right  !  You 

made  me  think  of  the  hero  as  a  red-haired  chap. 
Of  course  if  he  were  red,  the  ship  would  be  an  open 
one  with  painted  sails.' 

Surely,  I  thought,  he  would  remember  now  that 
he  had  served  in  two  galleys  at  least — in  a  three- 
decked  Greek  one  under  the  black-haired  '  political 
man,'  and  again  in  a  Viking's  open  sea-serpent 
under  the  man  'red  as  a  red  bear'  who  went  to 
Markland.  My  devil  prompted  me  to  speak. 

1  Why,  "  of  course,"  Charlie  ? '  said  I. 

'  I  don't  know.    Are  you  making  fun  of  me  ? ' 

The  current  was  broken  for  the  time  being.  I 
took  up  a  note-book  and  pretended  to  make  many 
entries  in  it. 

'  It's  a  pleasure  to  work  with  an  imaginative  chap 
like  yourself,'  I  said,  after  a  pause.  '  The  way  that 
you've  brought  out  the  character  of  the  hero  is 
simply  wonderful/ 

'  Do  you  think  so  ? '  he  answered  with  a  pleased 
flush.  '  I  often  tell  myself  that  there's  more  in  me 
than  my  mo than  people  think/ 

'  There's  an  enormous  amount  in  you/ 

'  Then,  won't  you  let  me  send  an  essay  on  The 
Ways  of  Bank-Clerks  to  Tit-Bits,  and  get  the  guinea 
prize  ? ' 


144  MANY  INVENTIONS. 

'  That  wasn't  exactly  what  I  meant,  old  fellow : 
perhaps  it  would  be  better  to  wait  a  little  and  go 
ahead  with  the  galley-story.' 

'Ah,  but  I  sha'n't  get  the  credit  of  that.  Tit- 
Bits  would  publish  my  name  and  address  if  I  win. 
What  are  you  grinning  at  ?  They  would.' 

'  I  know  it.  Suppose  you  go  for  a  walk.  I  want 
to  look  through  my  notes  about  our  story.' 

Now  this  reprehensible  youth  who  left  me,  a 
little  hurt  and  put  back,  might  for  aught  he  or  I 
knew  have  been  one  of  the  crew  of  the  Argo — had 
been  certainly  slave  or  comrade  to  Thorfin  Karl- 
sefne.  Therefore  he  was  deeply  interested  in  guinea 
competitions.  Remembering  what  Grish  Chunder 
had  said  I  laughed  aloud.  The  Lords  of  Life  and 
Death  would  never  allow  Charlie  Hears  to  speak 
with  full  knowledge  of  his  pasts ;  and  I  must  even 
piece  out  what  he  had  told  me  with  my  own  poor 
inventions  while  Charlie  wrote  of  the  ways  of  bank- 
clerks. 

I  got  together  and  placed  on  one  file  all  my 
notes ;  and  the  net  result  was  not  cheering.  I  read 
them  a  second  time.  There  was  nothing  that  might 
not  have  been  compiled  at  second-hand  from  other 
people's  books — except,  perhaps,  the  story  of  the 
fight  in  the  harbour.  The  adventures  of  a  Viking 
had  been  written  many  times  before ;  the  history  of 
a  Greek  galley-slave  was  no  new  thing,  and  though 
I  wrote  both,  who  could  challenge  or  confirm  the 


'THE  FINEST  STOEY  IN  THE   WOULD.'         145 

accuracy  of  my  details  ?  I  might  as  well  tell  a  tale 
of  two  thousand  years  hence.  The  Lords  of  Life 
and  Death  were  as  cunning  as  Grish  Chunder  had 
hinted.  They  would  allow  nothing  to  escape  that 
might  trouble  or  make  easy  the  minds  of  men. 
Though  I  was  convinced  of  this,  yet  I  could  not 
leave  the  tale  alone.  Exaltation  followed  reaction, 
not  once,  but  twenty  times  in  the  next  few  weeks. 
My  moods  varied  with  the  March  sunlight  and  fly- 
ing clouds.  By  night  or  in  the  beauty  of  a  spring 
morning  I  perceived  that  I  could  write  that  tale 
and  shift  continents  thereby.  In  the  wet  windy 
afternoons,  I  saw  that  the  tale  might  indeed  be 
written,  but  would  be  nothing  more  than  a  faked, 
false-varnished,  sham-rusted  piece  of  Wardour 
Street  work  at  the  end.  Then  I  blessed  Charlie  in 
many  ways — though  it  was  no  fault  of  his.  He 
seemed  to  be  busy  with  prize  competitions,  and  I 
saw  less  and  less  of  him  as  the  weeks  went  by  and 
the  earth  cracked  and  grew  ripe  to  spring,  and  the 
buds  swelled  in  their  sheaths.  He  did  not  care  to 
read  or  talk  of  what  he  had  read,  and  there  was  a 
new  ring  of  self-assertion  in  his  voice.  I  hardly 
cared  to  remind  him  of  the  galley  when  we  met ;  but 
Charlie  alluded  to  it  on  every  occasion,  always  as 
a  story  from  which  money  was  to  be  made. 

'  I  think  I  deserve  twenty-five  per  cent,  don't  I, 
at  least,'  he  said,  with  beautiful  frankness.  'I  sup- 
plied all  the  ideas,  didn't  I  ? ' 


146  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

This  greediness  for  silver  was  a  new  side  in  his 
nature.  I  assumed  that  it  had  been  developed  in  the 
City,  where  Charlie  was  picking  up  the  curious  nasal 
drawl  of  the  underbred  City  man. 

'When  the  thing's  done  we'll  talk  about  it.  I 
can't  make  anything  of  it  at  present.  Red-haired  or 
black-haired  hero  are  equally  difficult/ 

He  was  sitting  by  the  fire  staring  at  the  red  coals. 
'  I  can't  understand  what  you  find  so  difficult.  It's 
all  as  clear  as  mud  to  me/  he  replied.  A  jet  of  gas 
puffed  out  between  the  bars,  took  light,  and  whistled 
softly.  *  Suppose  we  take  the  red-haired  hero's  ad- 
ventures first,  from  the  time  that  he  came  south  to 
my  galley  and  captured  it  and  sailed  to  the  Beaches/ 

I  knew  better  now  than  to  interrupt  Charlie.  I 
was  out  of  reach  of  pen  and  paper,  and  dared  not 
move  to  get  them  lest  I  should  break  the  current. 
The  gas-jet  puffed  and  whinnied,  Charlie's  voice 
dropped  almost  to  a  whisper,  and  he  told  a  tale  of 
the  sailing  of  an  open  galley  to  Furdurstrandi,  of 
sunsets  on  the  open  sea,  seen  under  the  curve  of  the 
one  sail  evening  after  evening  when  the  galley's  beak 
was  notched  into  the  centre  of  the  sinking  disc,  and 
'  we  sailed  by  that  for  we  had  no  other  guide,'  quoth 
Charlie.  He  spoke  of  a  landing  on  an  island  and 
explorations  in  its  woods,  where  the  crew  killed 
three  men  whom  they  found  asleep  under  the  pines. 
Their  ghosts,  Charlie  said,  followed  the  galley,  swim- 
ming and  choking  in  the  water,  and  the  crew  cast 


'THE  FINEST  STOKY  IN  THE  WORLD.'      147 

lots  and  threw  one  of  their  number  overboard  as  a 
sacrifice  to  the  strange  gods  whom  they  had  of- 
fended. Then  they  ate  sea-weed  when  their  pro- 
visions failed,  and  their  legs  swelled,  and  their 
leader,  the  red-haired  man,  killed  two  rowers  who 
mutinied,  and  after  a  year  spent  among  the  woods 
they  set  sail  for  their  own  country,  and  a  wind  that 
never  failed  carried  them  back  so  safely  that  they 
all  slept  at  night.  This,  and  much  more  Charlie 
told.  Sometimes  the  voice  fell  so  low  that  I  could 
not  catch  the  words,  though  every  nerve  was  on  the 
strain.  He  spoke  of  their  leader,  the  red-haired 
man,  as  a  pagan  speaks  of  his  God ;  for  it  was  he 
who  cheered  them,  and  slew  them  impartially  as  he 
thought  best  for  their  needs;  and  it  was  he  who 
steered  them  for  three  days  among  floating  ice,  each 
floe  crowded  with  strange  beasts  that '  tried  to  sail 
with  us/  said  Charlie, '  and  we  beat  them  back  with 
the  handles  of  the  oars.' 

The  gas-jet  went  out,  a  burnt  coal  gave  way,  and 
the  fire  settled  with  a  tiny  crash  to  the  bottom  of  the 
grate.  Charlie  ceased  speaking,  and  I  said  no  word. 

'  By  Jove ! '  he  said  at  last,  shaking  his  head. 
*  I've  been  staring  at  the  fire  till  I'm  dizzy.  What 
was  I  going  to  say  ? ' 

'  Something  about  the  galley-book.' 

'  I  remember  now.  It's  a  quarter  of  the  profits, 
isn't  it?' 

'  It's  anything  you  like  when  I've  done  the  tale.' 


148  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

'I  wanted  to  be  sure  of  that.  I  must  go  now. 
I've — I've  an  appointment.'  And  he  left  me. 

Had  not  my  eyes  been  held  I  might  have  known 
that  that  broken  muttering  over  the  fire  was  the 
swan-song  of  Charlie  Hears.  But  I  thought  it  the 
prelude  to  fuller  revelation.  At  last  and  at  last  I 
should  cheat  the  Lords  of  Life  and  Death ! 

When  next  Charlie  came  to  me  I  received  him 
with  rapture.  He  was  nervous  and  embarrassed, 
but  his  eyes  were  very  full  of  light,  and  his  lips  a 
little  parted. 

'  I've  done  a  poem,'  he  said ;  and  then,  quickly : 
'  it's  the  best  I've  ever  done.  Read  it.'  He  thrust  it 
into  my  hand  and  retreated  to  the  window. 

I  groaned  inwardly.  It  would  be  the  work  of 
half  an  hour  to  criticise — that  is  to  say  praise — the 
poem  sufficiently  to  please  Charlie.  Then  I  had 
good  reason  to  groan,  for  Charlie,  discarding  his 
favourite  centipede  metres,  had  launched  into 
shorter  and  choppier  verse,  and  verse  with  a  motive 
at  the  back  of  it.  This  is  what  I  read  : — 

'  The  day  is  most  fair,  the  cheery  wind 

Halloos  behind  the  hill 
Where  he  bends  the  wood  as  scemeth  good, 

And  the  sapling  to  his  will ! 
Riot  0  wind  ;  there  is  that  in  my  blood 

That  would  not  have  thee  still ! 

'  She  gave  me  herself,  O  Earth,  0  Sky ; 

Gray  sea,  she  is  mine  alone  ! 
Let  the  sullen  boulders  hear  my  cry, 
And  rejoice  tho'  they  be  but  stone! 


'THE  FINEST  STORY  IN  THE  WOELD.'      149 

4  Mine !  I  have  won  her,  0  good  brown  earth, 
Make  merry !    'Tis  hard  on  Spring ; 

Make  merry ;  my  love  is  doubly  worth 
All  worship  your  fields  can  bring ! 

Let  the  hind  that  tills  you  feel  my  mirth 
At  the  early  harrowing.' 

'  Yes,  it's  the  early  harrowing,  past  a  doubt/  I 
said,  with  a  dread  at  my  heart.  Charlie  smiled,  but 
did  not  answer. 

4  Red  cloud  of  the  sunset,  tell  it  abroad  ; 

I  am  victor.    Greet  me,  0  Sun, 
Dominant  master  and  absolute  lord 
Over  the  soul  of  one ! ' 

*  Well  ? '  said  Charlie,  looking  over  my  shoulder. 

I  thought  it  far  from  well,  and  very  evil  indeed, 
when  he  silently  laid  a  photograph  on  the  paper — 
the  photograph  of  a  girl  with  a  curly  head,  and  a 
foolish  slack  mouth. 

'  Isn't  it — isn't  it  wonderful  ? '  he  whispered,  pink 
to  the  tips  of  his  ears,  wrapped  in  the  rosy  mystery 
of  first  love.  'I  didn't  know;  I  didn't  think — it 
came  like  a  thunderclap.' 

'Yes.  It  comes  like  a  thunderclap.  Are  you 
very  happy,  Charlie  ?  " 

"My  God — she — she  loves  me!'  He  sat  down 
repeating  the  last  words  to  himself.  I  looked  at  the 
hairless  face,  the  narrow  shoulders  already  bowed 
by  desk-work,  and  wondered  when,  where,  and  how 
he  had  loved  in  his  past  lives. 

'What  will  your  mother  say  ?'  I  asked  cheerfully. 


150  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

'  I  don't  care  a  damn  what  she  says.' 

At  twenty  the  things  for  which  one  does  not  care 
a  damn  should,  properly,  be  many,  but  one  must  not 
include  mothers  in  the  list.  I  told  him  this  gently ; 
and  he  described  Her,  even  as  Adam  must  have 
described  to  the  newly-named  beasts  the  glory 
and  tenderness  and  beauty  of  Eve.  Incidentally  I 
learned  that  She  was  a  tobacconist's  assistant  with  a 
weakness  for  pretty  dress,  and  had  told  him  four  or 
five  times  already  that  She  had  never  been  kissed  by 
a  man  before. 

Charlie  spoke  on  and  on,  and  on ;  while  I,  sepa- 
rated from  him  by  thousands  of  years,  was  consider- 
ing the  beginnings  of  things.  Now  I  understood 
why  the  Lords  of  Life  and  Death  shut  the  doors  so 
carefully  behind  us.  It  is  that  we  may  not  remem- 
ber our  first  and  most  beautiful  wooings.  Were  it 
not  so,  our  world  would  be  without  inhabitants  in  a 
hundred  years. 

'  Now,  about  that  galley-story,'  I  said  still  more 
cheerfully,  in  a  pause  in  the  rush  of  the  speech. 

Charlie  looked  up  as  though  he  had  been  hit. 
'The  galley — what  galley?  Good  heavens,  don't 
joke,  man !  This  is  serious !  You  don't  know  how 
serious  it  is ! ' 

Grish  Chunder  was  right.  Charlie  had  tasted 
the  love  of  woman  that  kills  remembrance,  and  the 
finest  story  in  the  world  would  never  be  written. 


HIS  PRIVATE  HONOUR. 

THE  autumn  batch  of  recruits  for  the  Old  Regi- 
ment had  just  been  uncarted.  As  usual  they  were 
said  to  be  the  worst  draft  that  had  ever  come  from 
the  Depot.  Mulvaney  looked  them  over,  grunted 
scornfully,  and  immediately  reported  himself  very 
sick. 

'  Is  it  the  regular  autumn  fever  ? '  said  the  doctor, 
who  knew  something  of  Terence's  ways.  '  Your  tem- 
perature's normal/ 

'  'Tis  a  hundred  and  thirty-seven  rookies  to  the 
bad,  sorr.  I'm  not  very  sick  now,  but  I  will  be  dead 
if  these  boys  are  thrown  at  me  in  my  rejuced  condi- 
tion. Doctor,  dear,  supposin'  you  was  in  charge  of 
three  cholera  camps  an' ' 

'  Go  to  hospital  then,  you  old  contriver/  said  the 
doctor  laughing. 

Terence  bundled  himself  into  a  blue  bedgown, — 
Dinah  Shadd  was  away  attending  to  a  major's  lady, 
who  preferred  Dinah  without  a  diploma  to  anybody 
else  with  a  hundred — put  a  pipe  in  his  teeth,  and 
paraded  the  hospital  balcony  exhorting  Ortheris  to 
be  a  father  to  the  new  recruits. 


Copyright,  1891,  by  Macmillan  &  Co. 


152  MANY  INVENTIONS. 

'  They're  mostly  your  own  sort,  little  man,'  he 
said  with  a  grin ;  '  the  top-spit  av  Whitechapel.  I'll 
interogue  them  whin  they're  more  like  something 
they  niver  will  be, — an'  that's  a  good  honist  soldier 
like  me.' 

Ortheris  yapped  indignantly.  He  knew  as  well 
as  Terence  what  the  coming  work  meant,  and  he 
thought  Terence's  conduct  mean.  Then  he  strolled 
off  to  look  at  the  new  cattle,  who  were  staring  at  the 
unfamiliar  landscape  with  large  eyes,  and  asking  if 
the  kites  were  eagles  and  the  pariah-dogs  jackals. 

'  Well,  you  are  a  holy  set  of  bean-faced  beggars, 
you  are,'  he  said  genially  to  a  knot  in  the  barrack 
square.  Then  running  his  eye  over  them, — *  Fried 
fish  an'  whelks  is  about  your  sort.  Blimy  if  they 
haven't  sent  some  pink-eyed  Jews  too.  You  chap 
with  the  greasy  'ed,  which  o'  the  Solomons  was  your 
father,  Moses  ? ' 

"  My  name's  Anderson,'  said  a  voice  sullenly. 

'  Oh,  Samuelson !  All  right,  Samuelson !  An* 
how  many  o'  the  likes  o'  you  Sheenies  are  comin'  to 
spoil  B.  Company  ?' 

There  is  no  scorn  so  complete  as  that  of  the  old 
soldier  for  the  new.  It  is  right  that  this  should  be  so. 
A  recruit  must  learn  first  that  he  is  not  a  man  but 
a  thing,  which  in  time,  and  by  the  mercy  of  Heaven, 
may  develop  into  a  soldier  of  the  Queen  if  it  takes 
care  and  attends  to  good  advice.  Ortheris's  tunic  was 
open,  his  cap  overlopped  one  eye,  and  his  hands  were 


HIS   PEIVATE  HONOUR.  153 

behind  his  back  as  he  walked  round  growing  more 
contemptuous  at  each  step.  The  recruits  did  not 
dare  to  answer,  for  they  were  new  boys  in  a  strange 
school,  who  had  called  themselves  soldiers  at  the 
Depot  in  comfortable  England. 

'  Not  a  single  pair  o'  shoulders  in  the  whole  lot. 
I've  seen  some  bad  drafts  in  my  time, — some  bloom- 
in*  bad  drafts ;  but  this  'ere  draft  beats  any  draft 
I've  ever  known.  Jock,  come  an'  look  at  these 
squidgy,  ham-shanked  beggars.' 

Learoyd  was  walking  across  the  square.  He  ar- 
rived slowly,  circled  round  the  knot  as  a  whale  cir- 
cles round  a  shoal  of  small  fry,  said  nothing,  and 
went  away  whistling. 

*  Yes,  you  may  well  look  sheepy/  Ortheris 
squeaked  to  the  boys.  *  It's  the  likes  of  you  breaks 
the  'earts  of  the  likes  of  us.  We've  got  to  lick  you 
into  shape,  and  never  a  ha'penny  extry  do  we  get  for 
so  doin',  and  you  ain't  never  grateful  neither.  Don't 
you  go  thinkin'  it's  the  Colonel  nor  yet  the  company 
orf'cer  that  makes  you.  It's  me,  you  Johnnie  Raws 
— you  Johnnie  bloomin'  Raws  ! ' 

A  company  officer  had  come  up  unperceived  be- 
hind Ortheris  at  the  end  of  this  oration.  '  You  may 
be  right,  Ortheris,'  he  said  quietly, '  but  I  shouldn't 
shout  it.'  The  recruits  grinned  as  Ortheris  saluted 
and  collapsed. 

Some  days  afterwards  I  was  privileged  to  look 
over  the  new  batch,  and  they  were  everything  that 


154  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

Ortheris  had  said,  and  more.  B.  Company  had  been 
devastated  by  forty  or  fifty  of  them ;  and  B.  Com- 
pany's drill  on  parade  was  a  sight  to  shudder  at. 
Ortheris  asked  them  lovingly  whether  they  had  not 
been  sent  out  by  mistake,  and  whether  they  had  not 
better  post  themselves  back  to  their  friends.  Lea- 
royd  thrashed  them  methodically  one  by  one,  with- 
out haste  but  without  slovenliness;  and  the  older 
soldiers  took  the  remnants  from  Learoyd  and  went 
over  them  in  their  own  fashion.  Mulvaney  stayed 
in  hospital,  and  grinned  from  the  balcony  when 
Ortheris  called  him  a  shirker  and  other  worse 
names. 

'  By  the  grace  av  God  we'll  brew  men  av  them 
yet/  Terence  said  one  day.  '  Be  vartuous  an'  parse- 
vere,  me  son.  There's  the  makin's  av  colonels  in 
that  mob  if  we  only  go  deep  enough — wid  a  belt.' 

1  We ! '  Ortheris  replied,  dancing  with  rage.  '  I 
just  like  you  and  your  "  we's."  'Ere's  B.  Company 
drillin'  like  a  drunk  Militia  reg'ment.' 

'  So  I've  been  officially  acquent,'  was  the  answer 
from  on  high ;  '  but  I'm  too  sick  this  tide  to  make 
certain.' 

'  An'  you,  you  fat  Hirishman,  shif tin'  and  shirk- 
in'  up  there  among  the  arrerroot  an'  the  sago/ 

'An'  the  port  wine, — you've  forgot  the  port  wine, 
Orth'ris ;  it's  none  so  bad.'  Terence  smacked  his  lips 
provokingly. 

'  And  we're  wore  off  our  feet  with  these  'ere, — 


HIS   PRIVATE  HONOUR.  155 

kangaroos.  Come  out  o'  that,  an'  earn  your  pay. 
Come  on  down  outer  that,  an'  do  somethin'  'stead  o' 
grinnin'  up  there  like  a  Jew  monkey,  you  frowsy- 
'eaded  Fenian.' 

'  When  I'm  better  av  my  various  complaints  I'll 
have  a  little  private  talkin'  wid  you.  In  the  mean- 
while,— duck ! ' 

Terence  flung  an  empty  medicine  bottle  at  Or- 
theris's  head  and  dropped  into  a  long  chair,  and 
Ortheris  came  to  tell  me  his  opinion  of  Mulvaney 
three  times  over, — each  time  entirely  varying  all  the 
words. 

'  There'll  be  a  smash  one  o'  these  days,'  he  con- 
cluded. '  Well,  it's  none  o'  my  fault,  but  it's  'ard  on 
B.  Company.' 

It  was  very  hard  on  B.  Company,  for  twenty 
seasoned  men  cannot  push  twice  that  number  of 
fools  into  their  places  and  keep  their  own  places  at 
the  same  time.  The  recruits  should  have  been  more 
evenly  distributed  through  the  regiment,  but  it 
seemed  good  to  the  Colonel  to  mass  them  in  a 
company  where  there  was  a  large  proportion  of  old 
soldiers.  He  found  his  reward  early  one  morning 
when  the  battalion  was  advancing  by  companies  in 
echelon  from  the  right.  The  order  was  given  to 
form  company  squares,  which  are  compact  little 
bricks  of  men,  very  unpleasant  for  a  line  of  charg- 
ing cavalry  to  deal  with.  B.  Company  was  on  the 

left  flank,  and  had  ample  time  to  know  what  was 
11 


156  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

going  on.  For  that  reason  presumably  it  gathered 
itself  into  a  thing  like  a  decayed  aloe-clump,  the 
bayonets  pointing  anywhere  in  general  and  no- 
where in  particular,  and  in  that  clump,  roundel,  or 
mob,  it  stayed  till  the  dust  had  gone  down  and  the 
Colonel  could  see  and  speak.  He  did  both,  and  the 
speaking  part  was  admitted  by  the  regiment  to  be 
the  finest  thing  that  the  ( old  man '  had  ever  risen  to 
since  one  delightful  day  at  a  sham-fight,  when  a  caval- 
ry division  had  occasion  to  walk  over  his  line  of  skir- 
mishers. He  said,  almost  weeping,  that  he  had  given 
no  order  for  rallying  groups,  and  that  he  preferred 
to  see  a  little  dressing  among  the  men  occasionally. 
He  then  apologised  for  having  mistaken  B.  Com- 
pany for  men.  He  said  that  they  were  but  weak 
little  children,  and  that  since  he  could  not  offer  them 
each  a  perambulator  and  a  nursemaid  (this  may 
sound  comic  to  read,  but  B.  Company  heard  it  by 
word  of  mouth  and  winced)  perhaps  the  best  thing 
for  them  to  do  would  be  to  go  back  to  squad  drill. 
To  that  end  he  proposed  sending  them,  out  of  their 
turn,  to  garrison  duty  in  Fort  Amara,  five  miles 
away, — D.  Company  were  next  for  this  detestable 
duty  and  nearly  cheered  the  Colonel.  There  he 
devoutly  hoped  that  their  own  subalterns  would 
drill  them  to  death,  as  they  were  of  no  use  in  this 
their  present  life. 

It  was  an  exceedingly  painful  scene,  and  I  made 
haste  to  be  near  B.  Company  barracks  when  parade 


HIS  PRIVATE  HONOUR.  157 

was  dismissed  and  the  men  were  free  to  talk.  There 
was  no  talking  at  first  because  each  old  soldier  took 
a  new  draft  and  kicked  him  very  severely.  The  non- 
commissioned officers  had  neither  eyes  nor  ears  for 
these  accidents.  They  left  the  barracks  to  them- 
selves, and  Ortheris  improved  the  occasion  by  a 
speech.  I  did  not  hear  that  speech,  but  fragments 
of  it  were  quoted  for  weeks  afterwards.  It  covered 
the  birth,  parentage,  and  education  of  every  man  in 
the  company  by  name :  it  gave  a  complete  account 
of  Fort  Amara  from  a  sanitary  and  social  point  of 
view;  and  it  wound  up  with  an  abstract  of  the 
whole  duty  of  a  soldier,  each  recruit  his  use  in  life, 
and  Otheris's  views  on  the  use  and  fate  of  the  re- 
cruits of  B.  Company. 

'  You  can't  drill,  you  can't  walk,  you  can't  shoot, 
— you, — you  awful  rookies !  Wot's  the  good  of  you  ? 
You  eats  and  you  sleeps,  and  you  eats,  and  you  goes 
to  the  doctor  for  medicine  when  your  innards  is  out 
o'  order  for  all  the  world  as  if  you  was  bloomin' 
generals.  An'  now  you've  topped  it  all,  you  bats'- 
eyed  beggars,  with  getting  us  druv  out  to  that 
stinkin'  Fort  'Ammerer.  We'll  fort  you  when  we 
get  out  there ;  yes,  an'  we'll  'ammer  you  too.  Don't 
you  think  you've  come  into  the  Harmy  to  drink 
Heno,  an'  clot  your  comp'ny,  an'  lie  on  your  cots 
an'  scratch  your  fat  heads.  You  can  do  that  at 
'ome  sellin'  matches,  which  is  all  you're  fit  for, 
you  keb-huntin',  penny-toy,  bootlace,  baggage-tout, 


158  '  MANY  INVENTIONS. 

'orse-'oldin',  sandwich-backed  se-wers,  you.*  I've 
spoke  you  as  fair  as  I  know  'ow,  and  you  give  good 
'eed,  'cause  if  Mulvaney  stops  skrimshankin' — gets 
out  o'  'ospital — when  we're  in  the  Fort,  I  lay  your 
lives  will  be  trouble  to  you/ 

That  was  Ortheris's  peroration,  and  it  caused  B. 
Company  to  be  christened  the  Boot-black  Brigade. 
With  this  disgrace  on  their  slack  shoulders  they 
went  to  garrison  duty  at  Fort  Amara  under  three 
officers  who  were  under  instructions  to  twist  their 
little  tails.  The  army,  unlike  every  other  profes- 
sion, cannot  be  taught  through  shilling  books. 
First  a  man  must  suffer,  then  he  must  learn  his 
work,  and  the  self-respect  that  that  knowledge 
brings.  The  learning  is  hard,  in  a  land  where  Our 
army  is  not  a  red  thing  that  walks  down  the  street 
to  be  looked  at,  but  a  living,  tramping  reality  liable 
to  be  needed  at  the  shortest  notice,  when  there  is 
no  time  to  say, '  Hadn't  you  better  ? '  and  '  Won't 
you,  please  ? ' 

The  company  officers  divided  themselves  into 
three.  When  Brander  the  captain  was  wearied,  he 
gave  over  to  Maydew,  and  when  Maydew  was 
hoarse  he  ordered  the  junior  subaltern  Ouless  to 
bucket  the  men  through  squad  and  company  drill, 
till  Brander  could  go  on  again.  Out  of  parade 
hours  the  old  soldiers  spoke  to  the  recruits  as  old 

*  Orthcris  meant  soors — which  means  pigs. 


HIS   PRIVATE  HONOUR.  159 

soldiers  will,  and  between  the  four  forces  at  work 
on  them,  the  new  draft  began  to  stand  on  their 
feet  and  feel  that  they  belonged  to  a  good  and 
honorable  service.  This  was  proved  by  their  once 
or  twice  resenting  Ortheris's  technical  lectures. 

'  Drop  it  now,  lad,'  said  Learoyd  coming  to  the 
rescue.  'Th'  pups  are  biting  back.  They're  none 
so  rotten  as  we  looked  for.' 

'Ho!  Yes.  You  think  yourself  soldiers  now, 
'cause  you  don't  fall  over  each  other  on  p'rade,  don't 
you  ?  You  think  'cause  the  dirt  don't  cake  off  you 
week's  end  to  week's  end  that  you're  clean  men. 
You  think  'cause  you  can  fire  your  rifle  without 
more  nor  shuttin'  both  eyes,  you're  something 
to  fight,  don't  you  ?  You'll  know  later  on/  said 
Ortheris  to  the  barrack-room  generally.  '  Not  but 
what  you're  a  little  better  than  you  was/  he  added, 
with  a  gracious  wave  of  his  cutty. 

It  was  in  this  transition  stage  that  I  came  across 
the  new  draft  once  more.  Their  officers,  in  the 
zeal  of  youth  forgetting  that  the  old  soldiers  who 
stiffened  the  sections  must  suffer  equally  with  the 
raw  material  under  hammering,  had  made  all  a 
little  stale  and  unhandy  with  continuous  drill  in 
the  square,  instead  of  marching  the  men  into  the 
open  and  supplying  them  with  skirmishing-drill. 
The  month  of  garrison-duty  in  the  Fort  was  nearly 
at  an  end,  and  B.  Company  were  quite  fit  for  a  self- 
respecting  regiment  to  drill  with.  They  had  no 


160  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

style  or  spring — that  would  come  in  time — but  as 
far  as  they  went  they  were  passable.  I  met  May- 
dew  one  day  and  inquired  after  their  health.  He 
told  me  that  young  Ouless  was  putting  a  polish  on 
a  half-company  of  them  in  a  great  square  by  the 
east  bastion  of  the  Fort  that  afternoon.  Because 
the  day  was  Saturday  I  went  off  to  taste  the  full 
beauty  of  leisure  in  watching  another  man  hard  at 
work. 

The  fat  forty-pound  muzzle-loaders  on  the  east 
bastion  made  very  comfortable  resting-places. 
You  could  sprawl  full  length  on  the  iron  warmed 
by  the  afternoon  sun  to  blood-heat,  and  command 
an  easy  view  of  the  parade-ground  which  lay  be- 
tween the  powder-magazine  and  the  curtain  of  the 
bastion. 

I  saw  a  half -company  called  over  and  told  off  for 
drill,  saw  Ouless  come  from  his  quarters,  tugging  at 
his  gloves,  and  heard  the  first  'Shun  !  that  locks  the 
ranks  and  shows  that  work  has  begun.  Then  I  went 
off  on  my  own  thoughts,  the  squeaking  of  the  boots 
and  the  rattle  of  the  rifles  making  a  good  accompani- 
ment, and  the  line  of  red  coats  and  black  trousers  a 
suitable  background  to  them  all.  They  concerned 
the  formation  of  a  territorial  army  for  India, — an 
army  of  specially  paid  men  enlisted  for  twelve  years' 
service  in  her  Majesty's  Indian  possessions,  with  the 
option  of  extending,  on  medical  certificate,  for  an- 
other five  and  the  certainty  of  a  pension  at  the  end. 


HIS   PRIVATE  HONOUR.  161 

They  would  be  such  an  army  as  the  world  had  never 
seen, — one  hundred  thousand  trained  men  drawing 
annually  five,  no,  fifteen,  thousand  men  from  Eng- 
land, making  India  their  home,  and  allowed  to  marry 
in  reason.  Yes,  I  thought,  watching  the  line  shift 
to  and  fro,  break  and  re-form,  we  would  buy  back 
Cashmere  from  the  drunken  imbecile  who  was  turn- 
ing it  into  a  hell,  and  there  we  would  plant  our 
much-married  regiments, — the  men  who  had  served 
ten  years  of  their  time, — and  there  they  should  breed 
us  white  soldiers,  and  perhaps  a  second  fighting-line 
of  Eurasians.  At  all  events  Cashmere  was  the  only 
place  in  India  that  the  Englishman  could  colonise, 
and  if  we  had  foot-hold  there  we  could.  .  .  .  Oh,  it 
was  a  beautiful  dream !  I  left  that  territorial  army, 
swelled  to  a  quarter  of  a  million  men,  far  behind, 
swept  on  as  far  as  an  independent  India,  hiring  war- 
ships from  the  mother  country,  guarding  Aden  on 
the  one  side  and  Singapore  on  the  other,  paying  in- 
terest on  her  loans  with  beautiful  regularity,  but 
borrowing  no  men  from  beyond  her  own  borders — a 
colonised,  manufacturing  India  with  a  permanent 
surplus  and  her  own  flag.  I  had  just  installed  my- 
self as  Viceroy,  and  by  virtue  of  my  office  had 
shipped  four  million  sturdy  thrifty  natives  to  the 
Malayan  Archipelago,  where  labour  is  always  wanted 
and  the  Chinese  pour  in  too  quickly,  when  I  became 
aware  that  things  were  not  going  smoothly  with  the 
half-company.  There  was  a  great  deal  too  much  shuf- 


162  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

fling  and  shifting  and  "  as  you  were-ing."  The  non- 
commissioned officers  were  snapping  at  the  men,  and 
I  fancied  Ouless  backed  one  of  his  orders  with  an 
oath.  He  was  in  no  position  to  do  this,  because  he 
was  a  junior  who  had  not  yet  learned  to  pitch  his 
word  of  command  in  the  same  key  twice  running. 
Sometimes  he  squeaked,  and  sometimes  he  grunted, 
and  a  clear  full  voice  with  a  ring  in  it  has  more  to 
do  with  drill  than  people  think.  He  was  nervous 
both  on  parade  and  in  mess,  because  he  was  unproven 
and  knew  it.  One  of  his  majors  had  said  in  his 
hearing, '  Ouless  has  a  skin  or  two  to  slough  yet,  and 
he  hasn't  the  sense  to  be  aware  of  it.'  That  remark 
had  stayed  in  Ouless's  mind  and  caused  him  to  think 
about  himself  in  little  things,  which  is  not  the  best 
training  for  a  young  man.  He  tried  to  be  cordial  at 
mess,  and  became  over-effusive.  Then  he  tried  to 
stand  on  his  dignity,  and  appeared  sulky  and  boor- 
ish. He  was  only  hunting  for  the  just  medium  and 
the  proper  note,  and  had  found  neither  because  he 
had  never  faced  himself  in  a  big  thing.  With  his 
men  he  was  as  ill  at  ease  as  he  was  with  his  mess, 
and  his  voice  betrayed  him.  I  heard  two  orders  and 
then : — '  Sergeant,  what  is  that  rear-rank  man  doingj 
damn  him  ? '  That  was  sufficiently  bad.  A  com- 
pany officer  ought  not  to  ask  sergeants  for  informa- 
tion. He  commands  ;  and  commands  are  not  held  by 
syndicates. 

It  was  too  dusty  to  see  the  drill  accurately,  but  I 


HIS  PRIVATE  HONOUR.  163 

could  hear  the  excited  little  voice  pitching  from 
octave  to  octave,  and  the  uneasy  ripple  of  badgered 
or  bad-tempered  files  running  down  the  ranks.  Ou- 
less  had  come  on  parade  as  sick  of  his  duty  as  were 
the  men  of  theirs.  The  hot  sun  had  told  on  every- 
body's temper,  but  most  of  all  on  the  youngest 
man's.  He  had  evidently  lost  his  self-control,  and 
not  possessing  the  nerve  or  the  knowledge  to  break 
off  till  he  had  recovered  it  again,  was  making  bad 
worse  by  ill-language. 

The  men  shifted  their  ground  and  came  close 
under  the  gun  I  was  lying  on.  They  were  wheeling 
quarter-right  and  they  did  it  very  badly,  in  the  natu- 
ral hope  of  hearing  Ouless  swear  again.  He  could 
have  taught  them  nothing  new,  but  they  enjoyed  the 
exhibition.  Instead  of  swearing  Ouless  lost  his  head 
completely,  and  struck  out  nervously  at  the  wheel- 
ing flank-man  with  a  little  Malacca  riding-cane  that 
he  held  in  his  hand  for  a  pointer.  The  cane  was 
topped  with  thin  silver  over  lacquer,  and  the  silver 
had  worn  through  in  one  place,  leaving  a  triangular 
flap  sticking  up.  I  had  just  time  to  see  that  Ouless 
had  thrown,  away  his  commission  by  striking  a  sol- 
dier, when  I  heard  the  rip  of  cloth  and  a  piece  of 
gray  shirt  showed  under  the  torn  scarlet  on  the 
man's  shoulder.  It  had  been  the  merest  nervous 
flick  of  an  exasperated  boy,  but  quite  enough  to  for- 
feit his  commission,  since  it  had  been  dealt  in  anger 
to  a  volunteer  and  no  pressed  man,  who  could  not, 


164  MANY  INVENTIONS. 

under  tlie  rules  of  the  service,  reply.  The  effect  of 
it,  thanks  to  the  natural  depravity  of  things,  was  as 
though  Ouless  had  cut  the  man's  coat  off  his  back. 
Knowing  the  new  draft  by  reputation,  I  was  fairly 
certain  that  every  one  of  them  would  swear  with 
many  oaths  that  Ouless  had  actually  thrashed  the 
man.  In  that  case  Ouless  would  do  well  to  pack  his 
trunk.  His  career  as  a  servant  of  the  Queen  in  any 
capacity  was  ended.  The  wheel  continued,  and  the 
men  halted  and  dressed  immediately  opposite  my 
resting-place.  Ouless's  face  was  perfectly  bloodless. 
The  flanking  man  was  a  dark  red,  and  I  could  see 
his  lips  moving  in  wicked  words.  He  was  Ortheris ! 
After  seven  years'  service  and  three  medals,  he  had 
been  struck  by  a  boy  younger  than  himself !  Fur- 
ther, he  was  my  friend  and  a  good  man,  a  proved 
man,  and  an  Englishman.  The  shame  of  the  thing 
made  me  as  hot  as  it  made  Ouless  cold,  and  if  Or- 
theris had  slipped  in  a  cartridge  and  cleared  the  ac- 
count at  once  I  should  have  rejoiced.  The  fact  that 
Ortheris,  of  all  men,  had  been  struck,  proved  that 
the  boy  could  not  have  known  whom  he  was  hitting ; 
but  he  should  have  remembered  that  he  was  no 
longer  a  boy.  And  then  I  was  sorry  for  him,  and 
then  I  was  angry  again,  and  Ortheris  stared  in  front 
of  him  and  grew  redder  and  redder. 

The  drill  halted  for  a  moment.  No  one  knew 
why,  for  not  three  men  could  have  seen  the  insult, 
the  wheel  being  end-on  to  Ouless  at  the  time.  Then, 


HIS   PRIVATE  HONOUR.  165 

led  I  conceived  by  the  hand  of  Fate,  Brander,  the 
captain,  crossed  the  drill-ground,  and  his  eye  was 
caught  by  not  more  than  a  square  foot  of  gray  shirt 
over  a  shoulder-blade  that  should  have  been  covered 
by  well-fitting  tunic. 

'  Heavens  and  Earth ! '  he  said,  crossing  in  three 
strides.  'Do  you  let  your  men  come  on  parade  in 
rags,  sir  ?  What's  that  scare-crow  doing  here  ?  Fall 

out,  that  flank-man.  What  do  you  mean  by You, 

Ortheris,  of  all  men!  What  the  deuce  do  you 
mean  ? ' 

'  Beg  y'  pardon,  sir/  said  Ortheris.  '  I  scratched 
it  against  the  guard-gate  running  up  to  parade/ 

'  Scratched  it !  Ripped  it  up,  you  mean.  It's  half 
off  your  back.' 

'  It  was  a  little  tear  at  first,  sir,  but  in  portin' 
arms  it  got  stretched,  sir,  an' — an'  I  can't  look  behind 
me.  I  felt  it  givin',  sir.' 

'  Hm ! '  said  Brander.  ( I  should  think  you  did 
feel  it  give.  I  thought  it  was  one  of  the  new  draft. 
You've  a  good  pair  of  shoulders.  Go  on ! ' 

He  turned  to  go.  Ouless  stepped  after  him,  very 
white,  and  said  something  in  a  low  voice. 

'  Hey,  what  ?   What !    Ortheris,'  the  voice  dropped. 

I  saw  Ortheris  salute,  say  something,  and  stand 
at  attention. 

'  Dismiss,'  said  Brander  curtly.  The  men  were 

dismissed.  '  I  can't  make  this  out.  You  say ?' 

he  nodded  at  Ouless,  who  said  something  again. 


166  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

Ortheris  stood  still,  the  torn  flap  of  his  tunic  falling 
nearly  to  his  waist-belt.  He  had,  as  Brander  said,  a 
good  pair  of  shoulders,  and  prided  himself  on  the  fit 
of  his  tunic. 

'  Beg  y'  pardon,  sir,'  I  heard  him  say, '  but  I  think 
Lieutenant  Ouless  has  been  in  the  sun  too  long.  He 
don't  quite  remember  things,  sir.  I  come  on  p'rade 
with  a  bit  of  a  rip,  and  it  spread,  sir,  through  portin' 
arms,  as  I  have  said,  sir/ 

Brander  looked  from  one  face  to  the  other,  and  I 
suppose  drew  his  own  conclusions, for  he  told  Ortheris 
to  go  with  the  other  men  who  were  flocking  back  to 
barracks.  Then  he  spoke  to  Ouless  and  went  away, 
leaving  the  boy  in  the  middle  of  the  parade-ground 
fumbling  with  his  sword-knot. 

He  looked  up,  saw  me  lying  on  the  gun,  and 
came  to  me  biting  the  back  of  his  gloved  forefinger, 
so  completely  thrown  off  his  balance  that  he  had  not 
sense  enough  to  keep  his  trouble  to  himself. 

'  I  say,  you  saw  that,  I  suppose  ? '  He  jerked  his 
head  back  to  the  square,  where  the  dust  left  by  the 
departing  men  was  settling  down  in  white  circles. 

'  I  did,'  I  answered,  for  I  was  not  feeling  polite. 

'What  the  devil  ought  I  to  do?'  He  bit  his 
finger  again.  '  I  told  Brander  what  I  had  done.  I 
hit  him.' 

'I'm  perfectly  aware  of  that,'  I  said,  'and  I  don't 
suppose  Ortheris  has  forgotten  it  already.' 

'  Ye — es  ;  but  I'm  dashed  if  I  know  what  I  ought 


HIS  PRIVATE  HONOUR.  167 

to  do.  Exchange  into  another  company,  I  suppose. 
I  can't  ask  the  man  to  exchange,  I  suppose.  Hey  ? ' 
The  suggestion  showed  the  glimmerings  of  proper 
sense,  but  he  should  not  have  come  to  me  or  any  one 
else  for  help.  It  was  his  own  affair,  and  I  told  him 
so.  He  seemed  unconvinced,  and  began  to  talk  of 
the  possibilities  of  being  cashiered.  At  this  point 
the  spirit  moved  me,  on  behalf  of  the  unavenged 
Ortheris,  to  paint  him  a  beautiful  picture  of  his 
insignificance  in  the  scheme  of  creation.  He  had  a 
papa  and  a  mamma  seven  thousand  miles  away,  and 
perhaps  some  friends.  They  would  feel  his  disgrace, 
but  no  one  else  would  care  a  penny.  He  would  be 
only  Lieutenant  Ouless  of  the  Old  Regiment  dis- 
missed the  Queen's  service  for  conduct  unbecoming 
an  officer  and  a  gentleman.  The  Commander-in- 
Chief,  who  would  confirm  the  orders  of  the  court- 
martial,  would  not  know  who  he  was ;  his  mess 
would  not  speak  of  him ;  he  would  return  to  Bom- 
bay, if  he  had  money  enough  to  go  home,  more  alone 
than  when  he  had  come  out.  Finally, — I  rounded 
the  sketch  with  precision — he -was  only  one  tiny  dab 
of  red  in  the  vast  gray  field  of  the  Indian  Empire. 
He  must  work  this  crisis  out  alone,  and  no  one  could 
help  him,  and  no  one  cared — (this  was  untrue,  be- 
cause I  cared  immensely ;  he  had  spoken  the  truth 
to  Brander  on  the  spot) — whether  he  pulled  through 
it  or  did  not  pull  through  it.  At  last  his  face  set 
and  his  figure  stiffened. 


168  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

'  Thanks,  that's  quite  enough.  I  don't  want  to 
hear  any  more/  he  said  in  a  dry  grating  voice,  and 
went  to  his  own  quarters. 

Brander  spoke  to  me  afterwards  and  asked  me 
some  absurd  questions  as  to  whether  I  had  seen 
Ouless  cut  the  coat  off  Ortheris's  back.  I  knew  that 
jagged  sliver  of  silver  would  do  its  work  well,  but  I 
contrived  to  impress  on  Brander  the  completeness, 
the  wonderful  completeness  of  my  disassociation 
from  that  drill.  I  began  to  tell  him  all  about  my 
dreams  for  the  new  territorial  army  in  India,  and  he 
left  me. 

I  could  not  see  Ortheris  for  some  days,  but 
learned  that  when  he  returned  to  his  fellows,  he  had 
told  the  story  of  the  blow  in  vivid  language.  Sam- 
uelson,  the  Jew,  then  asserted  that  it  was  not  good 
enough  to  live  in  a  regiment  where  you  were  drilled 
off  your  feet  and  knocked  about  like  a  dog.  The 
remark  was  a  perfectly  innocent  one,  and  exactly 
tallied  with  Ortheris's  expressed  opinions.  Yet 
Ortheris  had  called  Samuelson  an  unmentionable 
Jew,  had  accused  him  of  kicking  women  on  the 
head  in  London,  and  howling  under  the  cat,  had 
hustled  him,  as  a  bantam  hustles  a  barn-door  cock, 
from  one  end  of  the  barrack-room  to  the  other,  and 
finally  had  heaved  every  single  article  in  Samuel- 
son's  valise  and  bedding-roll  into  the  veranda  and 
the  outer  dirt,  kicking  Samuelson  every  time  that 
the  bewildered  creature  stooped  to  pick  anything  up. 


HIS   PRIVATE  HONOUR.  169 

My  informant  could  not  account  for  this  inconsist- 
ency, but  it  seemed  to  me  that  Ortheris  was  working 
off  his  temper. 

Mulvaney  had  heard  the  story  in  hospital.  First 
his  face  clouded,  then  he  spat,  and  then  he  laughed. 
I  suggested  that  he  had  better  return  to  active  duty, 
but  he  saw  it  in  another  light,  and  told  me  that 
Ortheris  was  quite  capable  of  looking  after  himself 
and  his  own  affairs.  '  An'  if  I  did  come  out/  said 
Terence,  '  like  as  not  I  would  be  catchin'  young 
Ouless  by  the  scruff  av  his  trousies  an'  makin'  an 
example  av  him  before  the  men.  Whin  Dinah  came 
back  I  would  be  under  court-martial,  an'  all  for  the 
sake  av  a  little  bit  av  a  bhoy  that'll  make  an  orf'cer 
yet.  What's  he  goin'  to  do,  sorr,  do  ye  know  ? ' 

'Which?'  said  I. 

'  Ouless,  av  coorse.  I've  no  fear  for  the  man. 
Begad,  tho',  if  ut  had  come  to  me — but  it  could  not 
have  so  come — I'd  ha'  made  him  cut  his  wisdom- 
teeth  on  his  own  sword-hilt.' 

*  I  don't  think  he  knows  himself  what  he  means 
to  do/  I  said. 

'  I  should  not  wonder/  said  Terence.  '  There's  a 
dale  av  thinkin'  before  a  young  man  whin  he's  done 
wrong  an'  knows  ut,  an'  is  studyin'  how  to  put  ut 
right.  Give  the  word  from  me  to  our  little  man 
there,  that  if  he  had  ha'  told  on  his  shuperior  orf'cer 
I'd  ha'  come  out  to  Fort  Amara  to  kick  him  into  the 
Fort  ditch — an'  that's  a  forty-fut  drop.' 


170  MANY  INVENTIONS. 

Ortheris  was  not  in  good  condition  to  talk  to. 
He  wandered  up  and  down  with  Learoyd,  brooding, 
so  far  as  I  could  see,  over  his  lost  honour,  and  using, 
as  I  could  hear,  incendiary  language.  Learoyd 
would  nod  and  spit  and  smoke  and  nod  again,  and 
he  must  have  been  a  great  comfort  to  Ortheris — al- 
most as  great  a  comfort  as  Samuelson,  whom  Or- 
theris bullied  disgracefully.  If  the  Jew  opened  his 
mouth  in  the  most  casual  remark  Ortheris  would 
plunge  down  it  with  all  arms  and  accoutrements, 
while  the  barrack-room  stared  and  wondered. 

Ouless  had  retired  into  himself  to  meditate.  I 
saw  him  now  and  again,  and  he  avoided  me  because 
I  had  witnessed  his  shame  and  spoken  my  mind  on 
it.  He  seemed  dull  and  moody,  and  found  his  half- 
company  anything  but  pleasant  to  drill.  The  men 
did  their  work  and  gave  him  very  little  trouble,  but 
just  when  they  should  have  been  feeling  their  feet, 
and  showing  that  they  felt  them  by  spring  and 
swing  and  snap,  the  elasticity  died  out,  and  it  was 
only  drilling  with  war-game  blocks.  There  is  a 
beautiful  little  ripple  in  a  well-made  line  of  men, 
exactly  like  the  play  of  a  perfectly-tempered  sword. 
Ouless's  half-company  moved  as  a  broomstick  moves, 
and  would  have  broken  as  easily. 

I  was  speculating  whether  Ouless  had  sent  money 
to  Ortheris,  which  would  have  been  bad,  or  had 
apologised  to  him  in  private,  which  would  have  been 
worse,  or  had  decided  to  let  the  whole  affair  slide, 


HIS   PRIVATE  HONOUR.  171 

which  would  have  been  worst  of  all,  when  orders 
came  to  me  to  leave  the  station  for  a  while.  I  had 
not  spoken  directly  to  Ortheris,  for  his  honour  was 
not  my  honour,  and  he  was  its  only  guardian,  and 
he  would  not  say  anything  except  bad  words. 

I  went  away,  and,  from  time  to  time,  thought  a 
great  deal  of  that  subaltern  and  that  private  in  Fort 
Amara,  and  wondered  what  would  be  the  upshot  of 
everything. 

When  I  returned  it  was  early  spring.  B.  Com- 
pany had  been  shifted  from  the  Fort  to  regular  duty 
in  cantonments,  the  roses  were  getting  ready  to  bud 
on  the  Mall,  and  the  regiment,  which  had  been  at  a 
camp  of  exercise  among  other  things,  was  going 
through  its  spring  musketry-course  under  an  adju- 
tant who  had  a  notion  that  its  shooting-average  was 
low.  He  had  stirred  up  the  company-officers  and 
they  had  bought  extra  ammunition  for  their  men — 
the  Government  allowance  is  just  sufficient  to  foul 
the  rifling — and  E.  Company,  which  counted  many 
marksmen,  was  vapouring  and  offering  to  challenge 
all  the  other  companies,  and  the  third-class  shots 
were  very  sorry  that  they  had  ever  been  born, 
and  all  the  subalterns  were  a  rich  ripe  saddle- 
colour  from  sitting  at  the  butts  six  or  eight  hours 
a  day. 

I  went  off  to  the  butts  after  breakfast  very  full 
of  curiosity  to  see  how  the  new  draft  had  come  for- 
ward. Ouless  was  there  with  his  men  by  the  bald 
12 


172  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

hillock  that  marks  the  six  hundred  yards  range,  and 
the  men  were  in  gray-green  khaki,  that  shows  the 
best  points  of  a  soldier  and  shades  off  into  every 
background  he  may  stand  against.  Before  I  was  in 
hearing  distance  I  could  see,  as  they  sprawled  on  the 
dusty  grass,  or  stood  up  and  shook  themselves,  that 
they  were  men  made  over  again — wearing  their  hel- 
mets with  the  cock  of  self-possession,  swinging  easily, 
and  jumping  to  the  word  of  command.  Coming 
nearer,  I  heard  Ouless  whistling  BaUylwoley  between 
his  teeth  as  he  looked  down  the  range  with  his  bin- 
oculars, and  the  back  of  Lieutenant  Ouless  was  the 
back  of  a  free  man  and  an  officer.  He  nodded  as  I 
came  up,  and  I  heard  him  fling  an  order  to  a  non- 
commissioned officer  in  a  sure  and  certain  voice. 
The  flag  ran  up  from  the  target,  and  Ortheris  flung 
himself  down  on  his  stomach  to  put  in  his  ten  shots. 
He  winked  at  me  over  the  breech-block  as  he  settled 
himself,  with  the  air  of  a  man  who  has  to  go  through 
tricks  for  the  benefit  of  children. 

'  Watch,  you  men/  said  Ouless  to  the  squad  be- 
hind. 'He's  half  your  weight,  Brannigan,  but  he 
isn't  afraid  of  his  rifle.' 

Ortheris  had  his  little  affectations  and  pet  ways 
as  the  rest  of  us  have.  He  weighed  his  rifle,  gave  it 
a  little  kick-up,  cuddled  down  again,  and  fired  across 
the  ground  that  was  beginning  to  dance  in  the  sun- 
heat. 

'  Miss ! '  said  a  man  behind. 


HIS   PRIVATE  HONOUR.  173 

'Too  much  bloomin'  background  in  front/  Or- 
theris  muttered. 

'I  should  allow  two  feet  for  refraction/  said 
Ouless. 

Ortheris  fired  again,  made  his  outer,  crept  in, 
found  the  bull  and  stayed  there;  the  non-commis- 
sioned officer  pricking  off  the  shots. 

'  Can't  make  out  'ow  I  missed  that  first/  he  said, 
rising,  and  stepping  back  to  my  side,  as  Learoyd 
took  his  place. 

*  Is  it  company  practice  ? '  I  asked. 

'No.  Only  just  knockin'  about.  Ouless,  'e's 
givin'  ten  rupees  for  second-class  shots.  I'm  outer 
it,  of  course,  but  I  come  on  to  show  'em  the  proper 
style  o'  doin'  things.  Jock  looks  like  a  sea-lion  at 
the  Brighton  Aquarium  sprawlin'  an'  crawlin'  down 
there,  don't  'e  ?  Gawd,  what  a  butt  this  end  of  'im 
would  make  ? ' 

'  B.  Company  has  come  up  very  well/  I  said. 

'They  'ad  to.  They're  none  so  dusty  now,  are 
they  ?  Samuelson  even,  'e  can  shoot  sometimes. 
We're  gettin'  on  as  well  as  can  be  expected,  thank 
you.' 

'  How  do  you  get  on  with ?' 

'Oh,  'im!'  Furst-rate!  There's  nothin'  wrong 
with  'im.' 

'Was  it  all  settled  then?' 

'  'Asn't  Terence  told  you  ?  I  should  say  it  was. 
'E's  a  gentleman,  'e  is.' 


174  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

*  Let's  hear/  I  said. 

Ortheris  twinkled  all  over,  tucked  his  rifle  across 
his  knees  and  repeated, '  'E's  a  gentleman.  'E's  an 
officer  too.  You  saw  all  that  mess  in  Fort  'Am- 
merer.  'Twasn't  none  o'  my  fault,  as  you  can  guess. 
Only  some  goat  in  the  drill  judged  it  was  behaviour 
or  something  to  play  the  fool  on  p'rade.  That's  why 
we  drilled  so  bad.  When  'e  'it  me,  I  was  so  took 
aback  I  couldn't  do  nothing,  an'  when  I  wished  for 
to  knock  'im  down  the  wheel  'ad  gone  on,  an'  I  was 
facin'  you  there  lyin'  on  the  guns.  After  the  cap- 
tain had  come  up  an'  was  raggin'  me  about  my  tunic 
bein'  tore,  I  saw  the  young  beggar's  eye,  an'  'fore  I 
could  'elp  myself  I  begun  to  lie  like  a  good  'un. 
You  'eard  that  ?  It  was  quite  instinkive,  but,  my ! 
I  was  in  a  lather.  Then  he  said  to  the  captain, "  I 
struck  'im ! "  sez  'e,  an'  I  'eard  Brander  whistle,  an' 
then  I  come  out  with  a  new  set  o'  lies  all  about  port- 
in'  arms  an'  'ow  the  rip  growed,  such  as  you  'eard. 
I  done  that  too  before  I  knew  where  I  was.  Then  I 
give  Samuelson  what-for  in  barricks  when  he  was 
dismissed.  You  should  ha'  seen  'is  kit  by  the  time 
I'd  finished  with  it.  It  was  all  over  the  bloomin* 
Fort !  Then  me  an'  Jock  went  off  to  Mulvaney  in 
'orspital,  five-mile  walk,  an'  I  was  hoppin'  mad. 
Ouless,  'e  knowed  it  was  court-marshal  for  me  if  I 
'it  'im  back — 'e  must  ha'  knowed.  Well,  I  sez  to 
Terence,  whisperin'  under  the  'orspital  balcony — 
"  Terence,"  sez  I,  "  what  in  'ell  am  I  to  do  ?  "  I  told 


HIS   PRIVATE   HONOUB.  175 

'irn.  all  about  the  row  same  as  you  saw.  Terence  'e 
whistles  like  a  bloomin'  old  bullfinch  up  there  in 
'orspital,  an'  'e  sez,  "  You  ain't  to  blame,"  sez  'e. 
"'Strewth,"  sez  I,  "d'you  suppose 'I've  come  'ere  five 
mile  in  the  sun  to  take  blame  ? "  I  sez.  "  I  want 
that  young  beggar's  hide  took  off.  I  ain't  a  bloom- 
in'  conscript,"  I  sez.  "  I'm  a  private  servin'  of  the 
Queen,  an'  as  good  a  man  as  'e  is,"  I  sez,  "  for  all  'is 
commission  an'  'is  airs  an'  'is  money,"  sez  I.' 

'  What  a  fool  you  were,'  I  interrupted.  Ortheris, 
being  neither  a  menial  nor  an  American,  but  a  free 
man,  had  no  excuse  for  yelping.' 

'That's  exactly  what  Terence  said.  I  wonder 
you  see  it  the  same  way  so  pat  if  'e  'asn't  been  talk- 
in'  to  you.  'E  sez  to  me — "  You  ought  to  have  more 
sense,"  'e  sez,  "  at  your  time  of  life.  What  differ  do 
it  make  to  you,"  'e  sez,  "  whether  'e  'as  a  commission 
or  no  commission  ?  That's  none  o'  your  affair.  It's 
between  man  an'  man,"  'e  sez,  "  if  'e  'eld  a  general's 
commission.  Moreover,"  'e  sez,  "you  don't  look 
'andsome  'oppin'  about  on  your  'hid  legs  like  that. 
Take  him  away,  Jock."  Then  'e  went  inside,  an* 
that's  all  I  got  outer  Terence.  Jock,  'e  sez  as  slow 
as  a  march  in  slow  time, — "  Stanley,"  'e  sez,  "  that 
young  beggar  didn't  go  for  to  'it  you."  "  I  don't 
give  a  damn  whether  'e  did  or  'e  didn't.  'It  me  'e 
did,"  I  sez.  "  Then  you've  only  got  to  report  to 
Brander,"  sez  Jock.  "  What  d'yer  take  me  for  ?  "  I 
sez,  as  I  was  so  mad  I  nearly  'it  Jock.  An'  he  got 


176  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

me  "by  the  neck  an'  shoved  my  'ead  into  a  bucket  o' 
water  in  the  cook-'ouse  an'  then  we  went  back  to  the 
Fort,  an'  I  give  Samuelson  a  little  more  trouble 
with  'is  kit.  'E  sez  to  me,  "  I  haven't  been  strook 
without  hittin'  back."  "Well,  you're  goin'  to  be 
now,"  I  sez,  an'  I  give  'im  one  or  two  for  'isself,  an' 
arxed  'im  very  polite  to  'it  back,  but  he  didn't.  I'd 
ha'  killed  'im  if  'e  'ad.  That  done  me  a  lot  o'  good. 

'  Ouless  'e  didn't  make  no  show  for  some  days, — 
not  till  after  you  was  gone  ;  an5 1  was  f eelin'  sick  an' 
miserable,  an'  didn't  know  what  I  wanted,  'cept  to 
black  his  little  eyes  good.  I  'oped  'e  might  send  me 
some  money  for  my  tunic.  Then  I'd  ha'  'ad  it  out 
with  him  on  p'rade  and  took  my  chance.  Terence 
was  in  'orspital  still,  you  see,  an'  'e  wouldn't  give  me 
no  advice. 

'  The  day  after  you  left,  Ouless  come  across  me 
carrying  a  bucket  on  fatigue,  an'  'e  sez  to  me  very 
quiet,  "  Ortheris,  you've  got  to  come  out  shootin' 
with  me,"  'e  sez.  I  felt  like  to  bunging  the  bucket 
in  'is  eye,  but  I  didn't.  I  got  ready  to  go  instead. 
Oh,  'e's  a  gentleman !  We  went  out  together,  nei- 
ther sayin'  nothin'  to  the  other  till  we  was  well  out 
into  the  jungle  beyond  the  river  with  'igh  grass  all 
round, — pretty  near  that  place  where  I  went  off  my 
'ead  with  you.  Then  'e  puts  his  gun  down  and  sez 
very  quietly :  "  Ortheris,  I  struck  you  on  p'rade,"  'e 
sez.  "  Yes,  sir,"  sez  I,  "  you  did."  "  I've  been 
studying  it  out  by  myself,"  'e  sez.  "  Oh,  you  'ave, 


HIS   PRIVATE  HONOUR.  177 

'ave  you  ?  "  sez  I  to  myself,  "  an'  a  nice  time  you've 
been  about  it,  you  bun-faced  little  beggar."  "  Yes, 
sir  ?  "  sez  I.  "  What  made  you  screen  me  ?  "  'e  sez. 
"  I  don't  know,"  I  sez,  an'  no  more  I  did,  nor  do.  "  I 
can't  ask  you  to  exchange,"  'e  sez.  "An'  I  don't 
want  to  exchange  myself,"  sez  'e.  "  What's  comin' 
now  ?  "  I  thinks  to  myself.  "  Yes,  sir,"  sez  I.  He 
looked  round  at  the  'igh  grass  all  about,  an'  'e  sez  to 
himself  more  than  to  me, — "  I've  got  to  go  through 
it  alone,  by  myself ! "  'E  looked  so  queer  for  a  min- 
ute that,  s'elp  me,  I  thought  the  little  beggar  was 
going  to  pray.  Then  he  turned  round  again  an'  'e 
sez,  "  What  do  you  think  yourself ! "  'e  sez.  "  I 
don't  quite  see  what  you  mean,  sir,"  I  sez.  "  What 
would  you  like  ?  "  'e  sez.  An'  I  thought  for  a  min- 
ute 'e  was  goin'  to  give  me  money,  but  'e  run  'is  'and 
up  to  the  top-button  of  'is  shootin'-coat  an'  loosed  it. 
"  Thank  you,  sir,"  I  sez.  "  I'd  like  that  very  well," 
I  sez,  an'  both  our  coats  was  off  an'  put  down.' 

'  Hooray ! '  I  shouted  incautiously. 

'  Don't  make  a  noise  on  the  butts,'  said  Ouless 
from  the  shooting-place.  '  It  puts  the  men  off.' 

I  apologised,  and  Ortheris  went  on. 

'  Our  coats  was  off,  an'  'e  sez,  "  Are  you  ready  ?  " 
sez  'e.  "  Come  on  then."  I  come  on,  a  bit  uncertain 
at  first,  but  he  took  me  one  under  the  chin  that 
warmed  me  up.  I  wanted  to  mark  the  little  beggar 
an'  I  hit  high,  but  he  went  an'  jabbed  me  over  the 
heart  like  a  good  one.  He  wasn't  so  strong  as  me, 


178  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

but  'e  knew  more,  an'  in  about  two  minutes  I  calls 
"  Time."  'E  steps  back, — we  was  in-fightin'  then  : 
"  Come  on  when  you're  ready,"  'e  sez ;  and  when  I 
had  my  wind  I  come  on  again,  an'  I  got  'im  one  on 
the  nose  that  painted  'is  little  aristocratic  white 
shirt  for  'im.  That  fetched  'im,  an'  I  knew  it 
quicker  nor  light.  He  come  all  round  me,  close- 
fightin',  goin'  steady  for  my  heart.  I  held  on  all  I 
could  an'  split  'is  ear,  but  then  I  began  to  hiccup, 
an'  the  game  was  up.  I  come  in  to  feel  if  I  could 
throw  'im,  an'  'e  got  me  one  on  the  mouth  that 
downed  me  an' — look  'ere  ! ' 

Ortheris  raised  the  left  corner  of  his  upper  lip. 
An  eye-tooth  was  wanting. 

"E  stood  over  me  an'  'e  sez,  'Have  you  'ad 
enough  ?" 'e  sez.  "Thank  you,  I  'ave,"  sez  I.  He 
took  my  'and  an'  pulled  me  up,  an'  I  was  pretty 
shook.  "  Now,"  'e  sez,  "  I'll  apologise  for  'ittin'  you. 
It  was  all  my  fault,"  'e  sez,  "  an'  it  wasn't  meant  for 
you."  "  I  knowed  that,  sir,"  I  sez,  "  an'  there's  no 
need  for  no  apology."  "  Then  it's  a  accident,"  'e 
sez ;  "  an'  you  must  let  me  pay  for  the  coat.  Else 
it'll  be  stopped  out  o'  your  pay."  I  wouldn't  ha' 
took  the  money  before,  but  I  did  then.  'E  give  me 
ten  rupees, — enough  to  pay  for  a  coat  twice  over,  an' 
we  went  down  to  the  river  to  wash  our  faces,  which 
was  well  marked.  His  was  special.  Then  he  sez  to 
'imself,  sputterin'  the  water  out  of  'is  mouth, "  I 
wonder  if  I  done  right,"  'e  sez.  "  Yes,  sir,"  sez  I. 


HIS   PRIVATE  HONOTJE.  179 

"There's  no  fear  about  that."  "It's  all  well  for 
you,"  'e  sez,  "  but  what  about  the  comp'ny  ?  "  "  Beg- 
gin'  your  pardon,  sir,"  I  sez,  "  I  don't  think  the  com- 
p'ny will  give  no  trouble."  Then  we  went  shootin', 
an'  when  we  come  back  I  was  feelin'  as  chirpy  as  a 
cricket,  an'  I  took  an'  rolled  Samuelson  up  an'  down 
the  veranda,  an'  give  out  to  the  comp'ny  that  the 
difficulty  between  me  and  Lieutenant  Ouless  was 
satisfactory  put  a  stop  to.  I  told  Jock,  o'  course,  an' 
Terence.  Jock  didn't  say  nothing,  but  Terence  'e 
sez  :  "  You're  a  pair,  you  two.  An',  begad,  I  don't 
know  which  was  the  better  man."  There  ain't 
nothin'  wrong  with  Ouless.  'E's  a  gentleman  all 
over,  an'  'e's  come  on  as  much  as  B.  Comp'ny.  I  lay 
'e'd  lose  'is  commission,  tho',  if  it  come  out  that  'e'd 
been  fightin'  with  a  private.  Ho !  Ho  !  Fightin'  all 
an  afternoon  with  a  bloomin'  private  like  me !  What 
do  you  think  ? '  he  added,  brushing  the  breech  of 
his  rifle. 

'I  think  what  the  umpires  said  at  the  sham 
fight;  both  sides  deserve  great  credit.  But  I  wish 
you'd  tell  me  what  made  you  save  him  in  the  first 
place/ 

'  I  was  pretty  sure  that  'e  'adn't  meant  it  for  me, 
though  that  wouldn't  ha'  made  no  difference  if  'e'd 
been  copped  for  it.  An'  'e  was  that  young  too,  it 
wouldn't  ha'  been  fair.  Besides,  if  I  had  ha'  done 
that  I'd  ha'  missed  the  fight,  and  I'd  ha'  felt  bad  all 
my  time.  Don't  you  see  it  that  way,  sir  ? ' 


180  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

'  It  was  your  right  to  get  him  cashiered  if  you 
chose/  I  insisted. 

'  My  right ! '  Ortheris  answered  with  deep  scorn. 
'My  right!  I  ain't  a  recruity  to  go  whinin'  about 
my  rights  to  this  an'  my  rights  to  that,  as  if  I 
couldn't  look  after  myself.  My  rights!  'Strewth 
A'mighty !  I'm  a  man/ 

The  last  squad  were  finishing  their  shots  in  a 
storm  of  low-voiced  chaff.  Ouless  withdrew  to  a 
little  distance  in  order  to  leave  the  men  at  ease,  and 
I  saw  his  face  in  the  full  sunlight  for  a  moment, 
before  he  hitched  up  his  sword,  got  his  men  to- 
gether, and  marched  them  back  to  barracks.  It  was 
all  right.  The  boy  was  proven. 


A  MATTER  OF  FACT. 

And  if  ye  doubt  the  tale  I  tell, 
Steer  through  the  South  Pacific  swell ; 
Go  where  the  branching  coral  hives 
Unending  strife  of  endless  lives, 
Where,  leagued  about  the  'wildered  boat, 
The  rainbow  jellies  fill  and  float ; 
And,  lilting  where  the  laver  lingers, 
The  starfish  trips  on  all  her  fingers ; 
Where,  'neath  his  myriad  spines  ashock, 
The  sea-egg  ripples  down  the  rock ; 
An  orange  wonder  dimly  guessed, 
From  darkness  where  the  cuttles  rest, 
Moored  o'er  the  darker  deeps  that  hide 
The  blind  white  Sea-snake  and  his  bride; 
Who,  drowsing,  nose  the  long-lost  ships 
Let  down  through  darkness  to  their  lips. 

— THE  PALMS. 

ONCE  a  priest  always  a  priest ;  once  a  Mason  al- 
ways a  Mason ;  but  once  a  journalist  always  and  for 
ever  a  journalist. 

There  were  three  of  us,  all  newspaper  men,  the 
only  passengers  on  a  little  tramp-steamer  that  ran 
where  her  owners  told  her  to  go.  She  had  once  been 
in  the  Bilbao  iron  ore  business,  had  been  lent  to  the 
Spanish  Government  for  service  at  Manilla;  and 
was  ending  her  days  in  the  Cape  Town  coolie-trade, 

Copyright,  1892,  by  Rudyard  Kipling. 


182  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

with  occasional  trips  to  Madagascar  and  even  as  far 
as  England.  We  found  her  going  to  Southampton 
in  ballast,  and  shipped  in  her  because  the  fares  were 
nominal.  There  was  Keller,  of  an  American  paper, 
on  his  way  back  to  the  States  from  palace  execu- 
tions in  Madagascar ;  there  was  a  burly  half  Dutch- 
man, called  Zuyland,  who  owned  and  edited  a  paper 
up  country  near  Johannesberg ;  and  there  was  my- 
self, who  had  solemnly  put  away  all  journalism, 
vowing  to  forget  that  I  had  ever  known  the  differ- 
ence between  an  imprint  and  a  stereo  advertise- 
ment. 

Three  minutes  after  Keller  spoke  to  me,  as  the 
Rathmines  cleared  Cape  Town,  I  had  forgotten  the 
aloofness  I  desired  to  feign,  and  was  in  heated  dis- 
cussion on  the  immorality  of  expanding  telegrams 
beyond  a  certain  fixed  point.  Then  Zuyland  came 
out  of  his  state-room,  and  we  were  all  at  home  in- 
stantly, because  we  were  men  of  the  same  profession 
needing  no  introduction.  We  annexed  the  boat  for- 
mally, broke  open  the  passengers'  bath-room  door — 
on  the  Manilla  lines  the  Dons  do  not  wash — cleaned 
out  the  orange-peel  and  cigar-ends  at  the  bottom  of 
the  bath,  hired  a  Lascar  to  shave  us  throughout  the 
voyage,  and  then  asked  each  other's  names. 

Three  ordinary  men  would  have  quarrelled 
through  sheer  boredom  before  they  reached  South- 
ampton. We,  by  virtue  of  our  craft,  were  anything 
but  ordinary  men.  A  large  percentage  of  the  tales 


A   MATTER   OF   FACT.  183 

of  the  world,  the  thirty-nine  that  cannot  be  told 
to  ladies  and  the  one  that  can,  are  common  prop- 
erty coming  of  a  common  stock.  We  told  them  all, 
as  a  matter  of  form,  with  all  their  local  and  specific 
variants  which  are  surprising.  Then  came,  in  the 
intervals  of  steady  card-play,  more  personal  histo- 
ries of  adventure  and  things  seen  and  reported;  pan- 
ics among  white  folk,  when  the  blind  terror  ran  from 
man  to  man  on  the  Brooklyn  Bridge,  and  the  people 
crushed  each  other  to  death  they  knew  not  why; 
fires,  and  faces  that  opened  and  shut  their  mouths 
horribly  at  red-hot  window-frames ;  wrecks  in  frost 
and  snow,  reported  from  the  sleet-sheathed  rescue 
tug  at  the  risk  of  frost-bite;  long  rides  after  di- 
amond thieves;  skirmishes  on  the  veldt  and  in 
municipal  committees  with  the  Boers;  glimpses  of 
lazy,  tangled  Cape  politics  and  the  mule-rule  in  the 
Transvaal ;  card-tales,  horse-tales,  woman-tales  by 
the  score  and  the  half  hundred ;  till  the  first  mate, 
who  had  seen  more  than  us  all  put  together,  but 
lacked  words  to  clothe  his  tales  with,  sat  open- 
mouthed  far  into  the  dawn. 

When  the  tales  were  done  we  picked  up  cards 
till  a  curious  hand  or  a  chance  remark  made  one  or 
other  of  us  say, '  That  reminds  me  of  a  man  who — 
or  a  business  which — '  and  the  anecdotes  would  con- 
tinue while  the  Ratlimines  kicked  her  way  north- 
ward through  the  warm  water. 

In   the   morning  of   one   specially  warm   night 


184  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

we  three  were  sitting  immediately  in  front  of  the 
wheel-house  where  an  old  Swedish  boatswain  whom 
we  called  '  Frithiof  the  Dane '  was  at  the  wheel  pre- 
tending that  he  could  not  hear  our  stories.  Once  or 
twice  Frithiof  spun  the  spokes  curiously,  and  Keller 
lifted  his  head  from  a  long  chair  to  ask, ( What  is 
it  ?  Can't  you  get  any  pull  on  her  ? ' 

'  There  is  a  feel  in  the  water/  said  Frithiof, 
'that  I  cannot  understand.  I  think  that  we  run 
downhills  or  somethings.  She  steers  bad  this  morn- 
ing/ 

Nobody  seems  to  know  the  laws  that  govern  the 
pulse  of  the  big  waters.  Sometimes  even  a  lands- 
man can  tell  that  the  solid  ocean  is  a-tilt,  and  that 
the  ship  is  working  herself  up  a  long  unseen  slope ; 
and  sometimes  the  captain  says,  when  neither  full 
steam  nor  fair  wind  justify  the  length  of  a  day's 
run,  that  the  ship  is  sagging  downhill;  but  how 
these  ups  and  downs  come  about  has  not  yet  been 
settled  authoritatively. 

'No,  it  is  a  following  sea/  said  Frithiof;  'and 
with  a  following  sea  you  shall  not  get  good  steerage 
way.' 

The  sea  was  as  smooth  as  a  duck-pond,  except  for 
a  regular  oily  swell.  As  I  looked  over  the  side  to 
see  where  it  might  be  following  us  from,  the  sun 
rose  in  a  perfectly  clear  sky  and  struck  the  water 
with  its  light  so  sharply  that  it  seemed  as  though 
the  sea  should  clang  like  a  burnished  gong.  The 


A  MATTER  OF  FACT,  185 

wake  of  the  screw  and  the  little  white  streak  cut  by 
the  log-line  hanging  over  the  stern  were  the  only 
marks  on  the  water  as  far  as  eye  could  reach. 

Keller  rolled  out  of  his  chair  and  went  aft  to  get 
a  pine-apple  from  the  ripening  stock  that  were  hung 
inside  the  after  awning. 

'  Frithiof,  the  log-line  has  got  tired  of  swimming. 
It's  coming  home/  he  drawled. 

'  What  ? '  said  Frithiof,  his  voice  jumping  sev- 
eral octaves. 

'  Coming  home/  Keller  repeated,  leaning  over  the 
stern.  I  ran  to  his  side  and  saw  the  log-line,  which 
till  then  had  been  drawn  tense  over  the  stern  rail- 
ing, slacken,  loop,  and  come  up  off  the  port  quarter. 
Frithiof  called  up  the  speaking-tube  to  the  bridge, 
and  the  bridge  answered,  '  Yes,  nine  knots.'  Then 
Frithiof  spoke  again,  and  the  answer  was, '  What  do 
you  want  of  the  skipper?'  anxd  Frithiof  bellowed, 
'  Call  him  up.' 

By  this  time  Zuyland,  Keller,  and  myself  had 
caught  something  of  Frithiof's  excitement,  for  any 
emotion  on  shipboard  is  most  contagious.  The  cap- 
tain ran  out  of  his  cabin,  spoke  to  Frithiof,  looked 
at  the  log-line,  jumped  on  the  bridge,  and  in  a  min- 
ute we  felt  the  steamer  swing  round  as  Frithiof 
turned  her. 

'  Going  back  to  Cape  Town  ? '  said  Keller. 

Frithiof  did  not  answer,  but  tore  away  at  the 
wheel.  Then  he  beckoned  us  three  to  help,  and  we 


186  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

held  the  wheel  down  till  the  Rathmines  answered  it, 
and  we  found  ourselves  looking  into  the  white  of 
our  own  wake,  with  the  still  oily  sea  tearing  past 
our  bows,  though  we  were  not  going  more  than  half 
steam  ahead. 

The  captain  stretched  out  his  arm  from  the 
bridge  and  shouted.  A  minute  later  I  would  have 
given  a  great  deal  to  have  shouted  too,  for  one-half 
of  the  sea  seemed  to  shoulder  itself  above  the  other 
half,  and  came  on  in  the  shape  of  a  hill.  There  was 
neither  crest,  comb,  nor  curl-over  to  it ;  nothing  but 
black  water  with  little  waves  chasing  each  other 
about  the  flanks.  I  saw  it  stream  past  and  on  a 
level  with  the  Rathmine's  bow-plates  before  the 
steamer  made  up  her  mind  to  rise,  and  I  argued 
that  this  would  be  the  last  of  all  earthly  voyages 
for  me.  Then  we  rose  for  ever  and  ever  and  ever, 
till  I  heard  Keller  saying  in  my  ear,  'The  bowels 
of  the  deep,  good  Lord ! '  and  the  Rathmines  stood 
poised,  her  screw  racing  and  drumming  on  the  slope 
of  a  hollow  that  stretched  downwards  for  a  good 
half-mile. 

We  went  down  that  hollow,  nose  under  for  the 
most  part,  and  the  air  smelt  wet  and  muddy,  like 
that  of  an  emptied  aquarium.  There  was  a  second 
hill  to  climb ;  I  saw  that  much  :  but  the  water  came 
aboard  and  carried  me  aft  till  it  jammed  me  against 
the  smoking-room  door,  and  before  I  could  catch 
breath  or  clear  my  eyes  again  we  were  rolling  to 


A   MATTEE   OF  FACT.  187 

and  fro  in  torn  water,  with  the  scuppers  pouring 
like  eaves  in  a  thunderstorm. 

''There  were  three  waves,'  said  Keller ;  '  and  the 
stoke-hold's  flooded/ 

The  firemen  were  on  deck  waiting,  apparently,  to 
be  drowned.  The  engineer  came  and  dragged  them 
below,  and  the  crew,  gasping,  began  to  work  the 
clumsy  Board  of  Trade  pump.  That  showed  noth- 
ing serious,  and  when  I  understood  that  the  Rath- 
mines  was  really  on  the  water,  and  not  beneath  it,  I 
asked  what  had  happened. 

'  The  captain  says  it  was  a  blow-up  under  the  sea 
— a  volcano/  said  Keller. 

'  It  hasn't  warmed  anything/  I  said.  I  was  feel- 
ing bitterly  cold,  and  cold  was  almost  unknown  in 
those  waters.  I  went  below  to  change  my  clothes, 
and  when  I  came  up  everything  was  wiped  out  by 
clinging  white  fog. 

'  Are  there  going  to  be  any  more  surprises  ? '  said 
Keller  to  the  captain. 

'  I  don't  know.  Be  thankful  you're  alive,  gentle- 
men. That's  a  tidal  wave  thrown  up  by  a  volcano. 
Probably  the  bottom  of  the  sea  has  been  lifted  a  few 
feet  somewhere  or  other.  I  can't  quite  understand 
this  cold  spell.  Our  sea-thermometer  says  the  sur- 
face water  is  44°,  and  it  should  be  68°  at  least.' 

'It's  abominable/  said  Keller,  shivering.  'But 
hadn't  you  better  attend  to  the  fog-horn  ?  It  seems 
to  me  that  I  heard  something/ 

13 


188  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

'  Heard !  Good  heavens  ! '  said  the  captain  from 
the  bridge,  '  I  should  think  you  did.'  He  pulled  the 
string  of  our  fog-horn,  which  was  a  weak  one.  It 
sputtered  and  choked,  because  the  stoke-hold  was 
full  of  water  and  the  fires  were  half-drowned,  and  at 
last  gave  out  a  moan.  It  was  answered  from  the 
fog  by  one  of  the  most  appalling  steam-sirens  I 
have  ever  heard.  Keller  turned  as  white  as  I  did, 
for  the  fog,  the  cold  fog,  was  upon  us,  and  any  man 
may  be  forgiven  for  fearing  the  death  he  cannot  see. 

*  Give  her  steam  there ! '  said  the  captain  to  the 
engine-room.  '  Steam  for  the  whistle,  if  we  have  to 
go  dead  slow/ 

We  bellowed  again,  and  the  damp  dripped  off 
the  awnings  to  the  deck  as  we  listened  for  the 
reply.  It  seemed  to  be  astern  this  time,  but  much 
nearer  than  before. 

'  The  Pembroke  Castle,  by  gum ! '  said  Keller,  and 
then,  viciously, '  Well,  thank  God,  we  shall  sink  her 
too/ 

'It's  a  side- wheel  steamer/  I  whispered.  'Can't 
you  hear  the  paddles  ? ' 

This  time  we  whistled  and  roared  till  the  steam 
gave  out,  and  the  answer  nearly  deafened  us.  There 
was  a  sound  of  frantic  threshing  in  the  water,  appar- 
ently about  fifty  yards  away,  and  something  shot 
past  in  the  whiteness  that  looked  as  though  it  were 
gray  and  red. 

'The  Pembroke  Castle  bottom  up,'  said  Keller, 


A   MATTER  OF  FACT.  189 

who,  being  a  journalist,  always  sought  for  explana- 
tions. '  That's  the  colours  of  a  Castle  liner.  We're 
in  for  a  big  thing/ 

'The  sea  is  bewitched/  said  Frithiof  from  the 
wheel-house.  '  There  are  two  steamers/ 

Another  siren  sounded  on  our  bow,  and  the  little 
steamer  rolled  in'  the  wash  of  something  that  had 
passed  unseen. 

'We're  evidently  in  the  middle  of  a  fleet,'  said 
Keller  quietly.  '  If  one  doesn't  run  us  down,  the 
other  will.  Phew  !  What  in  creation  is  that  ? ' 

I  sniffed  for  there  was  a  poisonous  rank  smell 
in  the  cold  air — a  smell  that  I  had  smelt  before. 

'If  I  was  on  land  I  should  say  that  it  was  an 
alligator.  It  smells  like  musk,'  I  answered. 

'Not  ten  thousand  alligators  could  make  that 
smell/  said  Zuyland ;  '  I  have  smelt  them.' 

'Bewitched!  Bewitched!'  said  Frithiof.  'The 
sea  she  is  turned  upside  down,  and  we  are  walking 
along  the  bottom.' 

Again  the  Rathmines  rolled  in  the  wash  of  some 
unseen  ship,  and  a  silver-gray  wave  broke  over  the 
bow,  leaving  on  the  deck  a  sheet  of  sediment — the 
gray  broth  that  has  its  place  in  the  fathomless  deeps 
of  the  sea.  A  sprinkling  of  the  wave  fell  on  my 
face,  and  it  was  so  cold  that  it  stung  as  boiling 
water  stings.  The  dead  and  most  untouched  deep 
water  of  the  sea  had  been  heaved  to  the  top  by  the 
submarine  volcano — the  chill,  still  water  that  kills 


190  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

all  life  and  smells  of  desolation  and  emptiness.  We 
did  not  need  either  the  blinding  fog  or  that  inde- 
scribable smell  of  musk  to  make  us  unhappy — we 
were  shivering  with  cold  and  wretchedness  where 
we  stood. 

'  The  hot  air  on  the  cold  water  makes  this  fog/ 
said  the  captain.  '  It  ought  to  clear  in  a  little  time.' 

'Whistle,  oh!  whistle,  and  let's  get  out  of  it/ 
said  Keller. 

The  captain  whistled  again,  and  far  and  far  astern 
the  invisible  twin  steam-sirens  answered  us.  Their 
blasting  shriek  grew  louder,  till  at  last  it  seemed  to 
tear  out  of  the  fog  just  above  our  quarter,  and  I 
cowered  while  the  Rath/mines  plunged  bows-under 
on  a  double  swell  that  crossed. 

'No  more/  said  Frithiof,  'it  is  not  good  any 
more.  Let  us  get  away,  in  the  name  of  God.' 

'  Now  if  a  torpedo-boat  with  a  City  of  Paris 
siren  went  mad  and  broke  her  moorings  and  hired 
a  friend  to  help  her,  it's  just  conceivable  that  we 
might  be  carried  as  we  are  now.  Otherwise  this 
thing  is ' 

The  last  words  died  on  Keller's  lips,  his  eyes 
began  to  start  from  his  head,  and  his  jaw  fell. 
Some  six  or  seven  feet  above  the  port  bulwarks, 
framed  in  fog,  and  as  utterly  unsupported  as  the 
full  moon,  hung  a  Face.  It  was  not  human,  and  it 
certainly  was  not  animal,  for  it  did  not  belong  to 
this  earth  as  known  to  man.  The  mouth  was  open, 


A   MATTER  OF  FACT.  191 

revealing  a  ridiculously  tiny  tongue — as  absurd  as 
the  tongue  of  an  elephant ;  there  were  tense  wrinkles 
of  white  skin  at  the  angles  of  the  drawn  lips ;  white 
feelers  like  those  of  a  barbel  sprang  from  the  lower 
jaw,  and  there  was  no  sign  of  teeth  within  the 
mouth.  But  the  horror  of  the  face  lay  in  the  eyes, 
for  those  were  sightless — white,  in  sockets  as  white 
as  scraped  bone,  and  blind.  Yet  for  all  this  the 
face,  wrinkled  as  the  mask  of  a  lion  is  drawn  in 
Assyrian  sculpture,  was  alive  with  rage  and  terror. 
One  long  white  feeler  touched  our  bulwarks.  Then 
the  face  disappeared  with  the  swiftness  of  a  blind 
worm  popping  into  its  burrow,  and  the  next  thing 
that  I  remember  is  my  own  voice  in  my  own  ears, 
saying  gravely  to  the  mainmast, '  But  the  air-bladder 
ought  to  have  been  forced  out  of  its  mouth,  you  know/ 

Keller  came  up  to  me,  ashy  white.  He  put  his 
hand  into  his  pocket,  took  a  cigar,  bit  it,  dropped  it, 
thrust  his  shaking  thumb  into  his  mouth  and  mum- 
bled, '  The  giant  gooseberry  and  the  raining  frogs ! 
Gimme  a  light — gimme  a  light!  I  say,  gimme  a 
light.'  A  little  bead  of  blood  dropped  from  his 
thumbnail. 

I  respected  the  motive,  though  the  manifestation 
was  absurd.  'Stop,  you'll  bite  your  thumb  off/  I 
said,  and  Keller  laughed  brokenly  as  he  picked  up 
his  cigar.  Only  Zuyland,  leaning  over  the  port 
bulwarks,  seemed  self-possessed.  He  declared  later 
that  he  was  very  sick. 


192  MANY  INVENTIONS. 

'  We've  seen  it/  lie  said,  turning  round.  ( That 
is  it.' 

'  What  ? '  said  Keller,  chewing  the  unlighted 
cigar. 

As  he  spoke  the  fog  was  blown  into  shreds,  and 
we  saw  the  sea,  gray  with  mud,  rolling  on  every 
side  of  us  and  empty  of  all  life.  Then  in  one  spot  it 
bubbled  and  became  like  the  pot  of  ointment  that 
the  Bible  speaks  of.  From  that  wide-ringed  trouble 
a  Thing  came  up — a  gray  and  red  Thing  with  a 
neck — a  Thing  that  bellowed  and  writhed  in  pain. 
Frithiof  drew  in  his  breath  and  held  it  till  the  red 
letters  of  the  ship's  name,  woven  across  his  jersey, 
straggled  and  opened  out  as  though  they  had  been 
type  badly  set.  Then  he  said  with  a  little  cluck  in 
his  throat, '  Ah,  me !  It  is  blind.  Hur  ilia  !  That 
thing  is  blind,'  and  a  murmur  of  pity  went 
through  us  all,  for  we  could  see  that  the  thing  on 
the  water  was  blind  and  in  pain.  Something  had 
gashed  and  cut  the  great  sides  cruelly  and  the  blood 
was  spurting  out.  The  gray  ooze  of  the  under- 
most sea  lay  in  the  monstrous  wrinkles  of  the  back 
and  poured  away  in  sluices.  The  blind  white  head 
flung  back  and  battered  the  wounds,  and  the  body  in 
its  torment  rose  clear  of  the  red  and  gray  waves  till 
we  saw  a  pair  of  quivering  shoulders  streaked  with 
weed  and  rough  with  shells,  but  as  white  in  the  clear 
spaces  as  the  hairless,  nameless,  blind,  toothless  head. 
Afterwards  came  a  dot  on  the  horizon  and  the  sound 


A  MATTEE   OF  FACT.  193 

of  a  shrill  scream,  and  it  was  as  though  a  shuttle 
shot  all  across  the  sea  in  one  breath,  and  a  second 
head  and  neck  tore  through  the  levels,  driving  a 
whispering  wall  of  water  to  right  and  left.  The  two 
Things  met — the  one  untouched  and  the  other  in  its 
death  throe — male  and  female,  we  said,  the  female 
coming  to  the  male.  She  circled  round  him  bellow- 
ing, and  laid  her  neck  across  the  curve  of  his  great 
turtle-back,  and  he  disappeared  under  water  for 
an  instant,  but  flung  up  again,  grunting  in  agony 
while  the  blood  ran.  Once  the  entire  head  and  neck 
shot  clear  of  the  water  and  stiffened,  and  I  heard 
Keller  saying,  as  though  he  was  watching  a  street 
accident, '  Give  him  air.  For  God's  sake  give  him 
air ! '  Then  the  death  struggle  began,  with  cramp- 
ings  and  twistings  and  jerkings  of  the  white  bulk 
to  and  fro,  till  our  little  steamer  rolled  again,  and 
each  gray  wave  coated  her  plates  with  the  gray 
slime.  The  sun  was  clear,  there  was  no  wind,  and 
we  watched,  the  whole  crew,  stokers  and  all,  in  won- 
der and  pity,  but  chiefly  pity.  The  Thing  was  so 
helpless,  and,  save  for  his  mate,  so  alone.  No  human 
eye  should  have  beheld  him ;  it  was  monstrous  and 
indecent  to  exhibit  him  there  in  trade  waters  between 
atlas  degrees  of  latitude.  He  had  been  spewed  up, 
mangled  and  dying  from  his  rest  on  the  sea-floor, 
where  he  might  have  lived  till  the  Judgment  Day, 
and  we  saw  the  tides  of  his  life  go  from  him  as  an 
angry  tide  goes  out  across  rocks  in  the  teeth  of  a 


194  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

landward  gale.  The  mate  lay  rocking  on  the  water 
a  little  distance  off,  bellowing  continually,  and  the 
smell  of  musk  came  down  upon,  the  ship  making  us 
cough. 

At  last  the  battle  for  life  ended,  in  a  batter  of 
coloured  seas.  We  saw  the  writhing  neck  fall  like 
a  flail,  the  carcase  turn  sideways,  showing  the  glint 
of  a  white  belly  and  the  inset  of  a  gigantic  hind-leg 
or  flapper.  Then  all  sank,  and  sea  boiled  over  it, 
while  the  mate  swam  round  and  round,  darting  her 
blind  head  in  every  direction.  Though  we  might 
have  feared  that  she  would  attack  the  steamer,  no 
power  on  earth  could  have  drawn  any  one  of  us  from 
our  places  that  hour.  We  watched,  holding  our 
breaths.  The  mate  paused  in  her  search ;  we  could 
hear  the  wash  beating  along  her  sides;  reared  her 
neck  as  high  as  she  could  reach,  blind  and  lonely  in 
all  that  loneliness  of  the  sea,  and  sent  one  desperate 
bellow  booming  across  the  swells,  as  an  oyster  shell 
skips  across  a  pond.  Then  she  made  off  to  the  west- 
ward, the  sun  shining  on  the  white  head  and  the 
wake  behind  it,  till  nothing  was  left  to  see  but  a 
little  pin  point  of  silver  on  the  horizon.  We  stood 
on  our  course  again,  and  the  JRathmines,  coated  with 
the  sea-sediment,  from  bow  to  stern,  looked  like  a 
ship  made  gray  with  terror. 

'  We  must  pool  our  notes,'  was  the  first  coherent 
remark  from  Keller.  '  We're  three  trained  journal- 


A   MATTER   OF   FACT.  195 

ists — we  hold  absolutely  the  biggest  scoop  on  record. 
Start  fair.' 

I  objected  to  this.  Nothing  is  gained  by  collab- 
oration in  journalism  when  all  deal  with  the  same 
facts,  so  we  went  to  work  each  according  to  his  own 
lights.  Keller  triple-headed  his  account,  talked 
about  our  '  gallant  captain/  and  wound  up  with  an 
allusion  to  American  enterprise  in  that  it  was  a  citi- 
zen of  Dayton,  Ohio,  that  had  seen  the  sea-serpent. 
This  sort  of  thing  would  have  discredited  the  Crea- 
tion, much  more  a  mere  sea  tale,  but  as  a  speci- 
men of  the  picture-writing  of  a  half-civilised  people 
it  was  very  interesting.  Zuyland  took  a  heavy 
column  and  a  half,  giving  approximate  lengths  and 
breadths  and  the  whole  list  of  the  crew  whom  he 
had  sworn  on  oath  to  testify  to  his  facts.  There  was 
nothing  fantastic  or  flamboyant  in  Zuyland.  I  wrote 
three-quarters  of  a  leaded  bourgeois  column,  roughly 
speaking,  and  refrained  from  putting  any  journalese 
into  it  for  reasons  that  had  begun  to  appear  to  me. 

Keller  was  insolent  with  joy.  He  was  going  to 
cable  from  Southampton  to  the  New  York  World, 
mail  his  account  to  America  on  the  same  day,  para- 
lyse London  with  his  three  columns  of  loosely 
knitted  headlines,  and  generally  efface  the  earth. 
'  You'll  see  how  I  work  a  big  scoop  when  I  get  it/ 
he  said. 

f  Is  this  your  first  visit  to  England  ? '  I  asked. 

'  Yes/  said  he.    '  You  don't  seem  to  appreciate  the 


196  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

beauty  of  our  scoop.  It's  pyramidal — the  death,  of 
the  sea-serpent!  Good  heavens  alive  man,  it's  the 
biggest  thing  ever  vouchsafed  to  a  paper ! ' 

'  Curious  to  think  that  it  will  never  appear  in  any 
paper,  isn't  it  ? '  I  said. 

Zuyland  was  near  me,  and  he  nodded  quickly. 

'  What  do  you  mean  ? '  said  Keller.  '  If  you're 
enough  of  a  Britisher  to  throw  this  thing  away,  I 
sha'n't.  I  thought  you  were  a  newspaper  man/ 

'I  am.  That's  why  I  know.  Don't  be  an  ass, 
Keller.  Remember,  I'm  seven  hundred  years  your 
senior,  and  what  your  grandchildren  may  learn  five 
hundred  years  hence,  I  learned  from  my  grand- 
fathers about  five  hundred  years  ago.  You  won't 
do  it,  because  you  can't.' 

This  conversation  was  held  in  open  sea,  where 
everything  seems  possible,  some  hundred  miles  from 
Southampton.  We  passed  the  Needles  Light  at 
dawn,  and  the  lifting  day  showed  the  stucco  villas 
on  the  green  and  the  awful  orderliness  of  England 
— line  upon  line,  wall  upon  wall,  solid  stone  dock 
and  monolithic  pier.  We  waited  an  hour  in  the 
Customs  shed,  and  there  was  ample  time  for  the 
effect  to  soak  in. 

'Now,  Keller,  you  face  the  music.  The  Havel 
goes  out  to-day.  Mail  by  her,  and  I'll  take  you  to 
the  telegraph  office,'  I  said. 

I  heard  Keller  gasp  as  the  influence  of  the  land 
closed  about  him,  cowing  him  as  they  say  Newmar- 


A   MATTER  OF  FACT.  197 

ket  Heath  cows  a  young  horse  unused  to  open 
country. 

'  I  want  to  retouch  my  stuff.  Suppose  we  wait 
till  we  get  to  London  ? '  he  said. 

Zuyland,  by  the  way,  had  torn  up  his  account  and 
thrown  it  overboard  that  morning  early.  His  rea- 
sons were  my  reasons. 

In  the  train  Keller  began  to  revise  his  copy,  and 
every  time  that  he  looked  at  the  trim  little  fields, 
the  red  villas,  and  the  embankments  of  the  line,  the 
blue  pencil  plunged  remorselessly  through  the  slips. 
He  appeared  to  have  dredged  the  dictionary  for  ad- 
jectives. I  could  think  of  none  that  he  had  not 
used.  Yet  he  was  a  perfectly  sound  poker  player 
and  never  showed  more  cards  than  were  sufficient 
to  take  the  pool. 

*  Aren't  you  going  to  leave  him  a  single  bellow  ? '  I 
asked  sympathetically.    '  Remember,  everything  goes 
in  the  States,  from  a  trouser-button  to  a  double  eagle.' 

'  That's  just  the  curse  of  it/  said  Keller  below  his 
breath.  ' We've  played  'em  for  suckers  so  often  that 
when  it  comes  to  the  golden  truth — I'd  like  to  try 
this  on  a  London  paper.  You  have  first  call  there, 
though.' 

'  Not  in  the  least.  I'm  not  touching  the  thing  in 
the  papers.  I  shall  be  happy  to  leave  'em  all  to  you ; 
but  surely  you'll  cable  it  home  ? ' 

*  No.    Not  if  I  can  make  the  scoop  here  and  see 
the  Britishers  sit  up.' 


198  MANY   INVENTIONS. 


won't  do  it  with  three  column  of  slushy 
headline,  believe  rne.  They  don't  sit  up  as  quickly 
as  some  people/ 

(  I'm  beginning  to  think  that  too.  Does  nothing 
make  any  difference  in  this  country  ?  '  he  said,  look- 
ing out  of  the  window.  '  How  old  is  that  farm- 
house ?  ' 

'  New.  It  can't  be  more  than  two  hundred  years 
at  the  most.' 

'  Urn.    Fields,  too  ?  ' 

'  That  hedge  there  must  have  been  clipped  for 
about  eighty  years.' 

'  Labour  cheap  —  eh  ?  ' 

'  Pretty  much.  Well,  I  suppose  you'd  like  to  try 
the  Times,  wouldn't  you  ?  ' 

'  No,'  said  Keller,  looking  at  Winchester  Cathe- 
dral. '  Might  as  well  try  to  electrify  a  hay  -rick. 
And  to  think  that  the  World  would  take  three  col- 
umns and  ask  for  more  —  with  illustrations  too  !  It's 
sickening.' 

'  But  the  Times  might,'  I  began. 

Keller  flung  his  paper  across  the  carriage,  and  it 
opened  in  its  austere  majesty  of  solid  type  —  opened 
with  the  crackle  of  an  encyclopaedia. 

'  Might  !  You  might  work  your  way  through  the 
bow-plates  of  a  cruiser.  Look  at  that  first  page  !  ' 

'  It  strikes  you  that  way,  does  it  ?  '  I  said.  '  Then 
I'd  recommend  you  to  try  a  light  and  frivolous  jour- 
nal.' 


A   MATTER   OF  FACT.  199 

'  With  a  thing  like  this  of  rnine — of  ours  ?  It's 
sacred  history ! ' 

I  showed  him  a  paper  which  I  conceived  would 
be  after  his  own  heart,  in  that  it  was  modelled  on 
American  lines. 

'  That's  homey,'  he  said,  '  but  it's  not  the  real 
thing.  Now,  I  should  like  one  of  these  fat  old  Times' 
columns.  Probably  there'd  be  a  bishop  in  the  office, 
though.' 

When  we  reached  London  Keller  disappeared  in 
the  direction  of  the  Strand.  What  his  experiences 
may  have  been  I  cannot  tell,  but  it  seems  that  he  in- 
vaded the  office  of  an  evening  paper  at  11.45  a.  m. 
(I  told  him  English  editors  were  most  idle  at  that 
hour),  and  mentioned  my  name  as  that  of  a  witness 
to  the  truth  of  his  story. 

'  I  was  nearly  fired  out,'  he  said  furiously  at 
lunch.  '  As  soon  as  I  mentioned  you,  the  old  man 
said  that  I  was  to  tell  you  that  they  didn't  want  any 
more  of  your  practical  jokes,  and  that  you  knew  the 
hours  to  call  if  you  had  anything  to  sell,  and  that 
they'd  see  you  condemned  before  they  helped  to 
puff  one  of  your  infernal  yarns  in  advance.  Say, 
what  record  do  you  hold  for  truth  in  this  city,  any- 
way ?  " 

'A  beauty.  You  ran  up  against  it,  that's  all. 
Why  don't  you  leave  the  English  papers  alone  and 
cable  to  New  York  ?  Everything  goes  over  there.' 

'  Can't  you  see  that's  just  why  ? '  he  repeated. 


200  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

'  I  saw  it  a  long  time  ago.  You  don't  intend  to 
cable,  then  ? ' 

*  Yes,  I  do/  he  answered,  in  the  over-emphatic 
voice  of  one  who  does  not  know  his  own  mind. 

That  afternoon  I  walked  him  abroad  and  about, 
over  the  streets  that  run  between  the  pavements  like 
channels  of  grooved  and  tongued  lava,  over  the 
bridges  that  are  made  of  enduring  stone,  through 
subways  floored  and  sided  with  yard-thick  concrete, 
between  houses  that  are  never  rebuilt,  and  by  river 
steps  hewn  to  the  eye  from  the  living  rock.  A  black 
fog  chased  us  into  Westminster  Abbey,  and,  stand- 
ing there  in  the  darkness,  I  could  hear  the  wings  of 
the  dead  centuries  circling  round  the  head  of  Litch- 
field  A.  Keller,  journalist,  of  Dayton,  Ohio,  U.  S.  A., 
whose  mission  it  was  to  make  the  Britishers  sit  up. 

He  stumbled  gasping  into  the  thick  gloom,  and 
the  roar  of  the  traffic  came  to  his  bewildered  ears. 

'  Let's  go  to  the  telegraph  office  and  cable/  I  said. 
'  Can't  you .  hear  the  New  York  World  crying  for 
news  of  the  great  sea-serpent,  blind,  white,  and 
smelling  of  musk,  stricken  to  death  by  a  submarine 
volcano,  assisted  by  his  loving  wife  to  die  in  mid- 
ocean,  as  visualised  by  an  independent  American 
citizen,  a  breezy,  newsy,  brainy  newspaper  man  of 
Dayton,  Ohio  ?  'Rah  for  the  Buckeye  State.  Step 
lively !  Both  gates !  Szz !  Boom— ah  ! '  Keller 
was  a  Princeton  man,  and  he  seemed  to  need  encour- 
agement. 


A   MATTER   OF  FACT.  201 

'  You've  got  me  on  your  own  ground,'  said  he, 
tugging  at  his  overcoat  pocket.  He  pulled  out  his 
copy,  with  the  cable  forms — for  he  had  written  out 
his  telegram — and  put  them  all  into  my  hand,  groan- 
ing, '  I  pass.  If  I  hadn't  come  to  your  cursed  coun- 
try— if  I'd  sent  it  off  at  Southampton — if  I  ever  ge.t 
you  west  of  the  Alleghanies,  if ' 

'  Never  mind,  Keller.  It  isn't  your  fault.  It's 
the  fault  of  your  country.  If  you  had  been  seven 
hundred  years  older  you'd  have  done  what  I'm  go- 
ing to  do.' 

'  What  are  you  going  to  do  ? ' 

'  Tell  it  as  a  lie.' 

'  Fiction  ? '  This  with  the  full-blooded  disgust 
of  a  journalist  for  the  illegitimate  branch  of  the 
profession. 

'  You  can  call  it  that  if  you  like.  I  shall  call  it  a 
lie.' 

And  a  lie  it  has  become,  for  Truth  is  a  naked 
lady,  and  if  by  accident  she  is  drawn  up  from  the 
bottom  of  the  sea,  it  behoves  a  gentleman  either  to 
give  her  a  print  petticoat  or  to  turn  his  face  to  the 
wall  and  vow  that  he  did  not  see. 


THE  LOST  LEGION. 

••  •> 
WHEN  the  Indian'  Mutiny  broke  out,  and  a  little 

time  before  the  siege  of  Delhi,  a  regiment  of  Native 
Irregular  Hors.e  was  ( stationed  at  Teshawur  on  the 
frontier  of  IndiaA  That  regiment  caught  what  John 
Lawrence  called  at  the  time  '  the  prevalent  mania ' 
and  would  have  thrown -in  its  lot  with  the  mutineers, 
had  it  been  allowed  to"  do  so  The  chance  never 
came,  for,  as  the  regiment  swept  off  down  south,  it 
was  headed  off, by  a  remnant  of  an  English  corps 
into  the  hills  of  Afghanistan,  and  there  the  newly 
conquered  tribesmen  turned  against  it  as  wolves 
turn  against  buck.  It  was  hunted  for  the  sake  of 
its  arms  and  accoutrements  from  hill  to  hill,  from 
ravine  to  ravine,  up  and  down  the  dried  beds  of 
rivers  and  round  the  shoulders  of  bluffs,  till  it  dis- 
appeared as  water  sinks  in  the  sand — this  officerless 
rebel  regiment.  The  only  trace  left  of  its  existence 
to-day  is  a  nominal  roll  drawn  up  in  neat  round 
hand  and  countersigned  by  an  officer  who  called 

himself, '  Adjutant,  late Irregular  Cavalry.'    The 

paper  is  yellow  with  years  and  dirt,  but  on  the  back 

Copyright,  1892,  by  Rudyard  Kipling. 


THE  LOST  LEGION. 

of  it  you  can  still  read  a  pencil-note  by  John  Law- 
rence ;  to  this  effect :  '  See  that  the  two  native  offi- 
cers who  remained  loyal  are  .not  deprived  of  their 
estates. — J.  L.'  Of  six  hundred  and  fifty  sabres  only 
two  stood  strain,  and  John  Lawrence  in  the  midst  of 
all  the  agony  of  the  first  months  of  the  Mutiny 
found  time  to  think  about  their  merits. 

That  was  more  than  thirty  years  ago,  and  the 
tribesmen  across  the  Afghan  border  who  helped  to 
annihilate  the  regiment  are  now  old  men.  Some- 
times a  graybeard  speaks  of  his  share  in  the  massa- 
cre. l  They  came/  he  will  say, '  across  the  border, 
very  proud,  calling  upon  us' to  rise  and  kill  the  Eng- 
lish, and  go  down  to  the  sack  of  Delhi.  But  we  who 
had  just  been  conquered  by  the  same  English  knew 
that  they  were  over  bold,  and  that  the  Government 
could  account  easily  for  those  down-country  dogs. 
This  Hindustani  regiment,  therefore,  we  treated 
with  fair  words,  and  kept  standing  in  one  place  till 
the  redcoats  came  after  them  very  hot  and  angry. 
Then  this  regiment  ran  forward  a  little  more  into ' 
our  hills  to  avoid  the  wrath  of  the  English,  and  we 
lay  upon  their  flanks  watching  from  the  sides  of  the 
hills  till  we  were  well  assured  that  their  path  was 
lost  behind  them.  Then  we  came  down,  for  we  de- 
sired their  clothes,  and  their  bridles,  and  their  rifles, 
and  their  boots — more  especially  their  boots.  That 
was  a  great  killing — done  slowly/  Here  the  old 

man  will  rub  his  nose,  and  shake  his  long  snaky 
it 


204  MANY  INVENTIONS. 

locks,  and  lick  his  bearded  lips,  and  grin  till  the 
yellow  tooth-stumps  show.  'Yea,  we  killed  them 
because  we  needed  their  gear,  and  we  knew  that 
their  lives  had  been  forfeited  to  God  on  account  of 
their  sin — the  sin  of  treachery  to  the  salt  which  they 
had  eaten.  They  rode  up  and  down  the  valleys, 
stumbling  and  rocking  in  their  saddles,  and  howl- 
ing for  mercy.  We  drove  them  slowly  like  cattle 
till  they  were  all  assembled  in  one  place,  the  flat 
wide  valley  of  Sheor  Kot.  Many  had  died  from 
want  of  water,  but  there  still  were  many  left,  and 
they  could  not  make  any  stand.  We  went  among 
them  pulling  them  down  with  our  hands  two  at  a 
time,  and  our  boys  killed  them  who  were  new  to  the 
sword.  My  share  of  the  plunder  was  such  and  such 
— so  many  guns,  and  so  many  saddles.  The  guns 
were  good  in  those  days.  Now  we  steal  the  Govern- 
ment rifles,  and  despise  smooth  barrels.  Yes,  beyond 
doubt  we  wiped  that  regiment  from  off  the  face  of 
the  earth,  and  even  the  memory  of  the  deed  is  now 

dying.    But  men  say 

At  this  point  the  tale  would  stop  abruptly,  and 
it  was  impossible  to  find  out  what  men  said  across 
the  border.  The  Afghans  were  always  a  secretive 
race,  and  vastly  preferred  doing  something  wicked 
to  saying  anything  at  all.  They  would  be  quiet  and 
well-behaved  for  months,  till  one  night,  without 
word  or  warning,  they  would  rush  a  police-post,  cut 
the  throats  of  a  constable  or  two,  dash  through  a 


THE  LOST  LEGION.  205 

village,  carry  away  three  or  four  women,  and  with- 
draw, in  the  red  glare  of  burning  thatch,  driving  the 
cattle  and  goats  before  them  to  their  own  desolate 
hills.  The  Indian  Government  would  become  al- 
most tearful  on  these  occasions.  First  it  would  say, 
'  Please  be  good  and  we'll  forgive  you.'  The  tribe 
concerned  in  the  latest  depredation  would  collect- 
ively put  its  thumb  to  its  nose  and  answer  rudely. 
Then  the  Government  would  say :  '  Hadn't  you  bet- 
ter pay  up  a  little  money  for  those  few  corpses  you 
left  behind  you  the  other  night  ? '  Here  the  tribe 
would  temporise,  and  lie  and  bully,  and  some  of  the 
younger  men,  merely  to  show  contempt  of  authority, 
would  raid  another  police-post  and  fire  into  some 
frontier  mud-fort,  and,  if  lucky,  kill  a  real  English 
officer.  Then  the  Government  would  say: — ' Ob- 
serve ;  if  you  really  persist  in  this  line  of  conduct, 
you  will  be  hurt/  If  the  tribe  knew  exactly  what 
was  going  on  in  India,  it  would  apologise  or  be  rude, 
according  as  it  learned  whether  the  Government 
was  busy  with  other  things  or  able  to  devote  its 
full  attention  to  their  performances.  Some  of  the 
tribes  knew  to  one  corpse  how  far  to  go.  Others  be- 
came excited,  lost  their  heads,  and  told  the  Govern- 
ment to  come  on.  With  sorrow  and  tears,  and  one 
eye  on  the  British  taxpayer  at  home,  who  insisted  on 
regarding  these  exercises  as  brutal  wars  of  annexa- 
tion, the  Government  would  prepare  an  expensive 
little  field-brigade  and  some  guns,  and  send  all  up 


206  MANY  INVENTIONS. 

into  the  hills  to  chase  the  wicked  tribe  out  of  the 
valleys,  where  the  corn  grew,  into  the  hill-tops 
where  there  was  nothing  to  eat.  The  tribe  would 
turn  out  in  full  strength  and  enjoy  the  campaign, 
for  they  knew  that  their  women  would  never  be 
touched,  that  their  wounded  would  be  nursed,  not 
mutilated,  and  that  as  soon  as  each  man's  bag  of 
corn  was  spent  they  could  surrender  and  palaver 
with  the  English  General  as  though  they  had  been 
a  real  enemy.  Afterwards,  years  afterwards,  they 
would  pay  the  blood-money,  driblet  by  driblet,  to 
the  Government  and  tell  their  children  how  they 
had  slain  the  redcoats  by  thousands.  The  only 
drawback  to  this  kind  of  picnic-war  was  the  weak- 
ness of  the  redcoats  for  solemnly  blowing  up  with 
powder  their  fortified  towers  and  keeps.  This  the 
tribes  always  considered  mean. 

Chief  among  the  leaders  of  the  smaller  tribes — 
the  little  clans  who  knew  to  a  penny  the  expense  of 
moving  white  troops  against  them — was  a  priest- 
bandit-chief  whom  we  will  call  the  Gulla  Kutta 
Mullah.  His  enthusiasm  for  Border  murder  as  an 
art  was  almost  dignified.  He  .would  cut  down  a 
mail-runner  from  pure  wantonness,  or  bombard  a 
mud  fort  with  rifle-fire  when  he  knew  that  our  men 
needed  to  sleep.  In  his  leisure  moments  he  would 
go  on  circuit  among  his  neighbours,  and  try  to  in- 
cite other  tribes  to  devilry.  Also,  he  kept  a  kind 
of  hotel  for  fellow-outlaws  in  his  own  village,  which 


THE   LOST  LEGION.  207 

lay  in  a  valley  called  Bersund.  Any  respectable 
murderer  on  that  section  of  the  frontier  was  sure  to 
lie  up  at  Bersund,  for  it  was  reckoned  an  exceed- 
ingly safe  place.  The  sole  entry  to  it  ran  through  a 
narrow  gorge  which  could  be  converted  into  a  death- 
trap in  five  minutes.  It  was  surrounded  by  high 
hills,  reckoned  inaccessible  to  all  save  born  moun- 
taineers, and  here  the  Gulla  Kutta  Mullah  lived  in 
great  state,  the  head  of  a  colony  of  mud  and  stone 
huts,  and  in  each  mud  hut  hung  some  portion  of  a 
red  uniform  and  the  plunder  of  dead  men.  The 
Government  particularly  wished  for  his  capture, 
and  once  invited  him  formally  to  come  out  and  be 
hanged  on  account  of  the  many  murders  in  which 
he  had  taken  a  direct  part.  He  replied : — 

'  I  am  only  twenty  miles,  as  the  crow  flies,  from 
your  border.  Come  and  fetch  me/ 

'  Some  day  we  will  come,'  said  the  Government, 
'  and  hanged  you  will  be/ 

The  Gulla  Kutta  Mullah  let  the  matter  from  his 
mind.  He  knew  that  the  patience  of  the  Govern- 
ment was  as  long  as  a  summer  day ;  but  he  did  not 
realise  that  its  arm  was  as  long  as  a  winter  night. 
Months  afterwards,  when  there  was  peace  on  the 
border,  and  all  India  was  quiet,  the  Indian  Govern- 
ment turned  in  its  sleep  and  remembered  the  Gulla 
Kutta  Mullah  at  Bersund,  with  his  thirteen  outlaws. 
The  movement  against  him  of  one  single  regiment 
— which  the  telegrams  would  have  translated  as  war 


208  MATTY   INVENTIONS. 

— would  have  been  highly  impolitic.  This  was  a 
time  for  silence  and  speed,  and,  above  all,  absence  of 
bloodshed. 

You  must  know  that  all  along  the  north-west 
frontier  of  India  there  is  spread  a  force  of  some 
thirty  thousand  foot  and  horse,  whose  duty  it  is  to 
quietly  and  unostentatiously  shepherd  the  tribes  in 
front  of  them.  They  move  up  and  down,  and  down 
and  up,  from  one  desolate  little  post  to  another ;  they 
are  ready  to  take  the  field  at  ten  minutes'  notice ; 
they  are  always  half  in  and  half  out  of  a  difficulty 
somewhere  along  the  monotonous  line ;  their  lives 
are  as  hard  as  their  own  muscles,  and  the  papers 
never  say  anything  about  them.  It  was  from  this 
force  that  the  Government  picked  its  men. 

One  night,  at  a  station  where  the  mounted  Night 
Patrol  fire  as  they  challenge,  and  the  wheat  rolls  in 
great  blue-green  waves  under  our  cold  northern 
moon,  the  officers  were  playing  billiards  in  the  mud- 
walled  club-house,  when  orders  came  to  them  that 
they  were  to  go  on  parade  at  once  for  a  night-drill. 
They  grumbled,  and  went  to  turn  out  their  men — a 
hundred  English  troops,  let  us  say,  two  hundred 
Goorkhas,  and  about  a  hundred  cavalry  of  the  finest 
native  cavalry  in  the  world. 

When  they  were  on  the  parade-ground,  it  was 
explained  to  them  in  whispers  that  they  must  set  off 
at  once  across  the  hills  to  Bersund.  The  English 
troops  were  to  post  themselves  round  the  hills  at  the 


THE  LOST  LEGION.  209 

side  of  the  valley;  the  Goorkhas  would  command 
the  gorge  and  the  death-trap,  and  the  cavalry  would 
fetch  a  long  march  round  and  get  to  the  back  of  the 
circle  of  hills,  whence,  if  there  were  any  difficulty, 
they  could  charge  down  on  the  Mullah's  men.  But 
orders  were  very  strict  that  there  should  be  no  fight- 
ing and  no  noise.  They  were  to  return  in  the  morn- 
ing with  every  round  of  ammunition  intact,  and  the 
Mullah  and  the  thirteen  outlaws  bound  in  their 
midst.  If  they  were  successful,  no  one  would  know 
or  care  anything  about  their  work ;  but  failure 
meant  probably  a  small  border  war,  in  which  the 
Gulla  Kutta  Mullah  would  pose  as  a  popular  leader 
against  a  big  bullying  power,  instead  of  a  common 
Border  murderer. 

Then  there  was  silence,  broken  only  by  the  click- 
ing of  the  compass-needles  and  snapping  of  watch- 
cases,  as  the  heads  of  columns  compared  bearings  and 
made  appointments  for  the  rendezvous.  Five  min- 
utes later  the  parade-ground  was  empty ;  the  green 
coats  of  the  Goorkhas  and  the  overcoats  of  the  Eng- 
lish troops  had  faded  into  the  darkness,  and  the  cav- 
alry were  cantering  away  in  the  face  of  a  blinding 
drizzle. 

What  the  Goorkhas  and  the  English  did  will  be 
seen  later  on.  The  heavy  work  lay  with  the  horses, 
for  they  had  to  go  far  and  pick  their  way  clear  of 
habitations.  Many  of  the  troopers  were  natives  of 
that  part  of  the  world,  ready  and  anxious  to  fight 


210  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

against  their  kin,  and  some  of  the  officers  had  made 
private  and  unofficial  excursions  into  those  hills  be- 
fore. They  crossed  the  border,  found  a  dried  river- 
bed, cantered  up  that,  walked  through  a  stony  gorge, 
risked  crossing  a  low  hill  under  cover  of  the  dark- 
ness, skirted  another  hill,  leaving  their  hoof -marks 
deep  in  some  ploughed  ground,  felt  their  way  along 
another  water-course,  ran  over  the  neck  of  a  spur 
praying  that  no  one  would  hear  their  horses  grunt- 
ing, and  so  worked  on  in  the  rain  and  the  darkness, 
till  they  had  left  Bersund  and  its  crater  of  hills  a 
little  behind  them,  and  to  the  left,  and  it  was  time 
to  swing  round.  The  ascent  commanding  the  back 
of  Bersund  was  steep,  and  they  halted  to  draw  breath 
in  a  broad  level  valley  below  the  height.  That  is  to 
say,  the  men  reined  up,  but  the  horses,  blown  as  they 
were,  refused  to  halt.  There  was  unchristian  lan- 
guage, the  worse  for  being  delivered  in  a  whisper, 
and  you  heard  the  saddles  squeaking  in  the  darkness 
as  the  horses  plunged. 

The  subaltern  at  the  rear  of  one  troop  turned  in 
his  saddle  and  said  very  softly : — 

'  Carter,  what  the  blessed  heavens  are  you  doing 
at  the  rear  ?  Bring  your  men  up,  man/ 

There  was  no  answer,  till  a  trooper  replied : — 

'  Carter  Sahib  is  forward — not  there.  There  is 
nothing  behind  us.' 

'  There  is/  said  the  subaltern.  '  The  squadron's 
walking  on  its  own  tail/ 


THE  LOST  LEGION.  211 

Then  the  Major  in  command  moved  down  to  the 
rear  swearing  softly  and  asking  for  the  blood  of 
Lieutenant  Halley — the  subaltern  who  had  just 
spoken. 

'Look  after  your  rearguard/  said  the  Major. 
'Some  of  your  infernal  thieves  have  got  lost. 
They're  at  the  head  of  the  squadron,  and  you're  a 
several  kinds  of  idiot.' 

'  Shall  I  tell  off  my  men,  sir  ? '  said  the  subaltern 
sulkily,  for  he  was  feeling  wet  and  cold. 

'  Tell  'em  off ! '  said  the  Major.  '  Whip  'em  off,  by 
Gad !  You're  squandering  them  all  over  the  place. 
There's  a  troop  behind  you  now  ! ' 

'So  I  was  thinking/  said  the  subaltern  calmly. 
'I  have  all  my  men  here,  sir.  Better  speak  to 
Carter.' 

'  Carter  Sahib  sends  salaam  and  wants  to  know- 
why  the  regiment  is  stopping/  said  a  trooper  to 
Lieutenant  Halley. 

'  Where  under  heaven  is  Carter  ? '  said  the  Major. 

'  Forward  with  his  troop/  was  the  answer. 

'  Are  we  walking  in  a  ring,  then,  or  are  we  the 
centre  of  a  blessed  brigade  ? '  said  the  Major. 

By  this  time  there  was  silence  all  along  the  col- 
umn. The  horses  were  still ;  but,  through  the  drive 
of  the  fine  rain,  men  could  hear  the  feet  of  many 
horses  moving  over  stony  ground. 

'  We're  being  stalked/  said  Lieutenant  Halley. 

'  They've  no  horses  here.    Besides  they'd  have 


212  MANY  INVENTIONS. 

fired  before  this/  said  the  Major.  'It's — it's  vil- 
lagers' ponies/ 

'  Then  our  horses  would  have  neighed  and  spoilt 
the  attack  long  ago.  They  must  have  been  near  us 
for  half  an  hour,'  said  the  subaltern. 

'  Queer  that  we  can't  smell  the  horses/  said  the 
Major,  damping  his  finger  and  rubbing  it  on  his  nose 
as  he  sniffed  up  wind. 

'  Well,  it's  a  bad  start/  said  the  subaltern,  shak- 
ing the  wet  from  his  overcoat.  '  What  shall  we  do, 
sir?' 

'  Get  on/  said  the  Major.  '  We  shall  catch  it  to- 
night.' 

The  column  moved  forward  very  gingerly  for  a 
few  paces.  Then  there  was  an  oath,  a  shower  of  blue 
sparks  as  shod  hooves  crashed  on  small  stones,  and  a 
man  rolled  over  with  a  jangle  of  accoutrements  that 
would  have  waked  the  dead. 

'Now  we've  gone  and  done  it/  said  Lieutenant 
Halley.  '  All  the  hillside  awake  and  all  the  hillside 
to  climb  in  the  face  of  musketry-fire!  This  comes 
of  trying  to  do  night-hawk  work.' 

The  trembling  trooper  picked  himself  up  and 
tried  to  explain  that  his  horse  had  fallen  over  one  of 
the  little  cairns  that  are  built  of  loose  stones  on  the 
spot  where  a  man  has  been  murdered.  There  was 
no  need  to  give  reasons.  The  major's  big  Australian 
charger  blundered  next,  and  the  column  came  to  a 
halt  in  what  seemed  to  be  a  very  graveyard  of  little 


THE  LOST  LEGION.  213 

cairns,  all  about  two  feet  high.  The  manoeuvres  of 
the  squadron  are  not  reported.  Men  said  that  it  felt 
like  mounted  quadrilles  without  training  and  with- 
out the  music ;  but  at  last  the  horses,  breaking  rank 
and  choosing  their  own  way,  walked  clear  of  the 
cairns,  till  every  man  of  the  squadron  reformed 
and  drew  rein  a  few  yards  up  the  slope  of  the  hill. 
Then,  according  to  Lieutenant  Halley,  there  was 
another  scene  very  like  the  one  which  has  been  de- 
scribed. The  Major  and  Carter  insisted  that  all  the 
men  had  not  joined  rank,  and  that  there  were  more 
of  them  in  the  rear,  clicking  and  blundering  among 
the  dead  men's  cairns.  Lieutenant  Halley  told  off 
his  own  troopers  again  and  resigned  himself  to  wait. 
Later  on  he  said  to  me  : 

'I  didn't  much  know,  and  I  didn't  much  care 
what  was  going  on.  The  row  of  that  trooper  fall- 
ing ought  to  have  scared  half  the  country,  and  I 
would  take  my  oath  that  we  were  being  stalked  by 
a  full  regiment  in  the  rear,  and  they  were  making 
row  enough  to  rouse  all  Afghanistan.  I  sat  tight, 
but  nothing  happened/ 

The  mysterious  part  of  the  night's  work  was  the 
silence  on  the  hillside.  Everybody  knew  that  the 
Gulla  Kutta  Mullah  had  his  outpost-huts  on  the  re- 
verse side  of  the  hill,  and  everybody  expected,  by 
the  time  that  the  Major  had  sworn  himself  into 
quiet,  that  the  watchmen  there  would  open  fire. 
When  nothing  happened,  they  said  that  the  gusts 


214  MANY  INVENTIONS. 

of  the  rain  had  deadened  the  sound  of  the  horses, 
and  thanked  Providence.  At  last  the  Major  satis- 
fied himself  (a)  that  he  had  left  no  one  behind 
among  the  cairns,  and  (b)  that  he  was  not  being 
taken  in  the  rear  by  a  large  and  powerful  body 
of  cavalry.  The  men's  tempers  were  thoroughly 
spoiled,  the  horses  were  lathered  and  unquiet,  and 
one  and  all  prayed  for  the  daylight. 

They  set  themselves  to  climb  up  the  hill,  each 
man  leading  his  mount  carefully.  Before  they  had 
covered  the  lower  slopes  or  the  breast-plates  had 
begun  to  tighten,  a  thunderstorm  came  up  behind, 
rolling  across  the  low  hills  and  drowning  any  noise 
less  than  that  of  cannon.  The  first  flash  of  the 
lightning  showed  the  bare  ribs  of  the  ascent,  the 
hill-crest  standing  steely-blue  against  the  black  sky, 
the  little  falling  lines  of  the  rain,  and,  a  few  yards 
to  their  left  flank,  an  Afghan  watchtower,  two- 
storied,  built  of  stone,  and  entered  by  a  ladder  from 
the  upper  story.  The  ladder  was  up,  and  a  man 
with  a  rifle  was  leaning  from  the  window.  The 
darkness  and  the  thunder  rolled  down  in  an  instant, 
and,  when  the  lull  followed,  a  voice  from  the  watch- 
tower  cried, '  Who  goes  there  ? ' 

The  cavalry  were  very  quiet,  but  each  man 
gripped  his  carbine  and  stood  beside  his  horse. 
Again  the  voice  called,  'Who  goes  there?'  and  in  a 
louder  key,  'O,  brothers,  give  the  alarm!'  Now, 
every  man  in  the  cavalry  would  have  died  in  his 


THE  LOST  LEGION.  215 

long  boots  sooner  than  have  asked  for  quarter,  but 
it  is  a  fact  that  the  answer  to  the  second  call  was  a 
long  wail  of  '  Marf  karo !  Marf  karo  ? '  which  means, 
'  Have  inercy !  Have  mercy !  *  It  came  from  the 
climbing  regiment. 

The  cavalry  stood  dumbfoundered,  till  the  big 
troopers  had  time  to  whisper  one  to  another :  '  Mir 
Khan,  was  that  thy  voice  ?  Abdullah,  didst  thou 
call  ? '  Lieutenant  Halley  stood  beside  his  charger 
and  waited.  So  long  as  no  firing  was  going  on  he 
was  content.  Another  flash  of  lightning  showed  the 
horses  with  heaving  flanks  and  nodding  heads ;  the 
men,  white  eye-balled,  glaring  beside  them,  and  the 
stone  watch-tower  to  the  left.  This  time  there  was 
no  head  at  the  window,  and  the  rude  iron-clamped 
shutter  that  could  turn  a  rifle  bullet  was  closed. 

'  Go  on,  men/  said  the  Major.  '  Get  up  to  the  top 
at  any  rate!'  The  squadron  toiled  forward,  the 
horses  wagging  their  tails  and  the  men  pulling  at 
the  bridles,  the  stones  rolling  down  the  hillside  and 
the  sparks  flying.  Lieutenant  Halley  declares  that 
he  never  heard  a  squadron  make  so  much  noise  in 
his  life.  They  scrambled  up,  he  said,  as  though  each 
horse  had  eight  legs  and  a  spare  horse  to  follow  him. 
Even  then  there  was  no  sound  from  the  watchtower, 
and  the  men  stopped  exhausted  on  the  ridge  that 
overlooked  the  pit  of  darkness  in  which  the  village 
of  Bersund  lay.  Girths  were  loosed,  curb-chains 
shifted,  and  saddles  adjusted,  and  the  men  dropped 


216  MANY  INVENTIONS. 

down  among  the  stones.  Whatever  might  happen 
now,  they  held  the  upper  ground  of  any  attack. 

The  thunder  ceased,  and  with  it  the  rain,  and  the 
soft  thick  darkness  of  a  winter  night  before  the 
dawn  covered  them  all.  Except  for  the  sound  of 
falling  water  among  the  ravines  below,  everything 
was  still.  They  heard  the  shutter  of  the  watchtower 
below  them  thrown  back  with  a  clang,  and  the  voice 
of  the  watcher  calling, '  Oh,  Hafiz  Ullah ! ' 

The  echoes  took  up  the  call,  ' La-la-la!'  and  an 
answer  came  from  the  watchtower  hidden  round  the 
curve  of  the  hill, t  "What  is  it,  Shahbaz  Khan  ? ' 

Shahbaz  Khan  replied  in  the  high-pitched  voice 
of  the  mountaineer :  '  Hast  thou  seen  ? ' 

The  answer  came  back:  'Yes.  God  deliver  us 
from  all  evil  spirits ! ' 

There  was  a  pause,  and  then :  '  Hafiz  Ullah,  I  am 
alone !  Come  to  me.' 

'  Shahbaz  Khan,  I  am  alone  also ;  but  I  dare  not 
leave  my  post ! ' 

'  That  is  a  lie  ;  thou  art  afraid/ 

A  longer  pause  followed,  and  then  :  '  I  am  afraid. 
Be  silent!  They  are  below  us  still.  Pray  to  God 
and  sleep.' 

The  troopers  listened  and  wondered,  for  they 
could  not  understand  what  save  earth  and  stone 
could  lie  below  the  watchtowers. 

Shahbaz  Khan  began  to  call  again:  'They  are 
below  us.  I  can  see  them!  For  the  pity  of  God 


THE  LOST  LEGION.  217 

come  over  to  me,  Hafiz  Ullah !  My  father  slew  ten 
of  them.  Come  over ! ' 

Hafiz  Ullah  answered  in  a  very  loud  voice, '  Mine 
was  guiltless.  Hear,  ye  Men  of  the  Night,  neither 
my  father  nor  my  blood  had  any  part  in  that  sin. 
Bear  thou  thine  own  punishment,  Shahbaz  Khan.' 

'Oh,  some  one  ought  to  stop  those  two  chaps 
crowing  away  like  cocks  there/  said  the  Lieutenant 
shivering  under  his  rock. 

He  had  hardly  turned  round  to  expose  a  new  side 
of  him  to  the  rain  before  a  bearded,  long-locked, 
evil-smelling  Afghan  rushed  up  the  hill,  and  tum- 
bled into  his  arms.  Halley  sat  upon  him,  and  thrust 
as  much  of  a  sword-hilt  as  could  be  spared  down  the 
man's  gullet.  '  If  you  cry  out,  I  kill  you/  he  said 
cheerfully. 

The  man  was  beyond  any  expression  of  terror. 
He  lay  and  quaked,  gasping.  When  Halley  took 
the  sword-hilt  from  between  his  teeth,  he  was  still 
inarticulate,  but  clung  to  Halley 's  arm,  feeling  it 
from  elbow  to  wrist. 

*  The  Bissala !  The  dead  Rissala ! '  he  gasped. 
'  It  is  down  there ! ' 

'No;  the  Rissala,  the  very  much  alive  Rissala. 
It  is  up  here/  said  Halley,  unshipping  his  watering- 
bridle,  and  fastening  the  man's  hands.  Why  were 
you  in  the  towers  so  foolish  as  to  let  us  pass  ? ' 

'  The  valley  is  full  of  the  dead/  said  the  Afghan. 
'It  is  better  to  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  English 


218  MANY  INVENTIONS. 

than  the  hands  of  the  dead.  They  march  to  and  fro 
below  there.  I  saw  them  in  the  lightning.' 

He  recovered  his  composure  after  a  little,  and 
whispering,  because  Halley's  pistol  was  at  his  stom- 
ach, said :  '  What  is  this  ?  There  is  no  war  between 
us  now,  and  the  Mullah  will  kill  me  for  not  seeing 
you  pass ! ' 

'  Rest  easy/  said  Halley ;  '  we  are  coming  to  kill 
the  Mullah,  if  God  please.  His  teeth  have  grown 
too  long.  No  harm  will  come  to  thee  unless  the 
daylight  shows  thee  as  a  face  which  -is  desired  by 
the  gallows  for  crime  done.  But  what  of  the  dead 
regiment  ? ' 

'  I  only  kill  within  my  own  border/  said  the  man, 
immensely  relieved.  '  The  Dead  Regiment  is  below. 
The  men  must  have  passed  through  it  on  their  jour- 
ney— four  hundred  dead  on  horses,  stumbling  among 
their  own  graves,  among  the  little  heaps — dead  men 
all,  whom  we  slew.' 

'  Whew ! '  said  Halley.  '  That  accounts  for  my 
cursing  Carter  and  the  Major  cursing  me.  Four 
hundred  sabres,  eh  ?  No  wonder  we  thought  there 
were  a  few  extra  men  in  the  troop.  Kurruk  Shah/ 
he  whispered  to  a  grizzled  native  officer  that  lay 
within  a  few  feet  of  him, '  Hast  thou  heard  anything 
of  a  dead  Rissala  in  these  hills  ? ' 

'Assuredly/  said  Kurruk  Shah  with  a  grim 
chuckle.  'Otherwise,  why  did  I,  who  have  served 
the  Queen  for  seven  and  twenty  years,  and  killed 


THE  LOST   LEGION.  219 

many  hill-dogs,  shout  aloud  for  quarter  when  the 
lightning  revealed  us  to  the  watchtowers  ?  When  I 
was  a  young  man  I  saw  the  killing  in  the  valley  of 
Sheor-K6t  there  at  our  feet,  and  I  know  the  talo 
that  grew  up  therefrom.  But  how  can  the  ghosts  of 
unbelievers  prevail  against  us  who  are  of  the  Faith  ? 
Strap  that  dog's  hands  a  little  tighter,  Sahib.  An 
Afghan  is  like  an  eel/ 

'But  a  dead  Rissala/  said  Halley,  jerking  his 
captive's  wrist.  '  That  is  foolish  talk,  Kurruk  Shah. 
The  dead  are  dead.  Hold  still,  Sag!'  The  Afghan 
wriggled. 

'The  dead  are  dead,  and  for  that  reason  they 
walk  at  night.  What  need  to  talk  ?  We  be  men ; 
we  have  our  eyes  and  ears.  Thou  canst  both  see 
and  hear  them  down  the  hillside,'  said  Kurruk  Shah 
composedly. 

Halley  stared  and  listened  long  and  intently. 
The  valley  was  full  of  stifled  noises,  as  every  valley 
must  be  at  night;  but  whether  he  saw  or  heard 
more  than  was  natural  Halley  alone  knows,  and  ho 
does  not  choose  to  speak  on  the  subject. 

At  last,  and  just  before  the  dawn,  a  green  rocket 
shot  up  from  the  far  side  of  the  valley  of  Bersund, 
at  the  head  of  the  gorge,  to  show  that  the  Goorkhas 
were  in  position.  A  red  light  from  the  infantry  at 
left  and  right  answered  it,  and  the  cavalry  burnt  a 
white  flare.  Afghans  in  winter  are  late  sleepers, 
and  it  was  not  till  full  day  that  the  Gulla  Kutta 

15 


220  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

Mullah's  men  began  to  straggle  from  their  huts, 
rubbing  their  eyes.  They  saw  men  in  green,  and 
red,  and  brown  uniforms,  leaning  on  their  arms, 
neatly  arranged  all  round  the  crater  of  the  village 
of  Bersund,  in  a  cordon  that  not  even  a  wolf  could 
have  broken.  They  rubbed  their  eyes  the  more 
when  a  pink-faced  young  man,  who  was  not  even  in 
the  Army,  but  represented  the  Political  Department, 
tripped  down  the  hillside  with  two  orderlies,  rapped 
at  the  door  of  the  Gulla  Kutta  Mullah's  house,  and 
told  him  quietly  to  step  out  and  be  tied  up  for  safe 
transport.  That  same  young  man  passed  on  through 
the  huts,  tapping  here  one  cateran,  and  there  another 
lightly  with  his  cane ;  and  as  each  was  pointed  out, 
so  he  was  tied  up,  staring  hopelessly  at  the  crowned 
heights  around  where  the  English  soldiers  looked 
down  with  incurious  eyes.  Only  the  Mullah  tried 
to  carry  it  off  with  curses  and  high  words,  till  a 
soldier  who  was  tying  his  hands  said : — 

'None  o'  your  lip!  Why  didn't  you  come  out 
when  you  was  ordered,  instead  o'  keeping  us  awake 
all  night  ?  You're  no  better  than  my  own  barrack- 
sweeper,  you  white-'eaded  old  polyanthus !  Kim  up ! ' 

Half  an  hour  later  the  troops  had  gone  away 
with  the  Mullah  and  his  thirteen  friends.  The 
dazed  villagers  were  looking  ruefully  at  a  pile  of 
broken  muskets  and  snapped  swords,  and  wondering 
how  in  the  world  they  had  come  so  to  miscalculate 
the  forbearance  of  the  Indian  Government. 


THE  LOST  LEGION.  221 

It  was  a  very  neat  little  affair,  neatly  carried  out, 
and  the  men  concerned  were  unofficially  thanked  for 
their  services. 

Yet  it  seems  to  me  that  much  credit  is  also  due 
to  another  regiment  whose  name  did  not  appear  in 
brigade  orders,  and  whose  very  existence  is  in  dan- 
ger of  being  forgotten. 


IN  THE  RUKH. 

The  Only  Son  lay  down  again  and  dreamed  that  he  dreamed  a 

dream, 
The  last  ash  dropped  from  the  dying  fire  with  the  click  of  a  falling 

spark, 

And  the  Only  Son  woke  up  again  and  called  across  the  dark: — 
'  Now,  was  I  born  of  womankind  and  laid  in  a  mother's  breast  ? 
For  I  have  dreamed  of  a  shaggy  hide  whereon  I  went  to  rest. 
And  was  I  born  of  womankind  and  laid  on  a  father's  arm  ? 
For  I  have  dreamed  of  long  white  teeth  that  guarded  me  from  harm. 
Oh,  was  I  born  of  womankind  and  did  I  play  alone  ? 
For  I  have  dreamed  of  playmates  twain  that  bit  me  to  the  bone. 
And  did  I  break  the  barley  bread  and  steep  it  in  the  tyref 
For  I  have  dreamed  of  a  youngling  kid  new-riven  from  the  byre. 
An  hour  it  lacks  and  an  hour  it  lacks  to  the  rising  of  the  moon — 
But  I  can  see  the  black  roof-beams  as  plain  as  it  were  noon. 
'Tis  a  league  and  a  league  to  the  Lena  Falls  where  the  trooping 

sambhur  go, 

But  I  can  hear  the  little  fawn  that  bleats  behind  the  doe. 
'Tis  a  league  and  a  league  to  the  Lena  Falls  where  the  crop  and  the 

upland  meet, 
But  I  can  smell  the  warm  wet  wind  that  whispers  through  the 

wheat ! '  The  Only  Son. 

OF  the  wheels  of  public  service  that  turn  under 
the  Indian  Government,  there  is  none  more  impor- 
tant than  the  Department  of  Woods  and  Forests. 
The  reboisement  of  all  India  is  in  its  hands :  or  will 
be  when  Government  has  the  money  to  spend.  Its 

Copyright,  1893,  by  D  Appleton  &  Co. 


IN  THE  EUKII.  223 

servants  wrestle  with  wandering  sand-torrents  and 
shifting  dunes:  wattling  them  at  the  sides,  dam- 
ming them  in  front,  and  pegging  them  down  atop 
with  coarse  grass  and  unhappy  pine  after  the  rules 
of  Nancy.  They  are  responsible  for  all  the  timber 
in  the  State  forests  of  the  Himalayas,  as  well  as  for 
the  denuded  hillsides  that  the  monsoons  wash  into 
dry  gullies  and  aching  ravines,  each  cut  a  mouth 
crying  aloud  what  carelessness  can  do.  They  ex- 
periment with  battalions  of  foreign  trees,  and  coax 
the  blue  gum  to  take  root  and,  perhaps,  dry  up  the 
canal  fever.  In  the  plains  the  chief  part  of  their 
duty  is  to  see  that  the  belt  fire  lines  in  the  forest  re- 
serves are  kept  clean, -so  that  when  drouth  comes 
and  the  cattle  starve,  they  may  throw  the  reserve 
open  to  the  villager's  herds  and  allow  the  man  him- 
self to  gather  sticks.  They  poll  and  lop  for  the 
stacked  railway-fuel  along  the  lines  that  burn  no 
coal ;  they  calculate  the  profit  of  their  plantations  to 
five  points  of  decimals,  they  are  the  doctors  and  mid- 
wives  of  the  huge  teak  forests  of  Upper  Burma ; 
the  rubber  of  the  Eastern  Jungles,  and  the  gall-nuts 
of  the  South:  and  they  are  always  hampered  by 
lack  of  funds.  But  since  a  Forest  Officer's  business 
takes  him  far  from  the  beaten  roads  and  the  regular 
stations,  he  learns  to  grow  wise  in  more  than  wood- 
lore  alone  ;  to  know  the  people  and  the  polity  of  the 
jungle ;  meeting  tiger,  bear,  leopard,  wild-dog,  and 
all  the  deer,  not  once  or  twice  after  days  of  beating, 


224  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

but  again  and  again  in  the  execution  of  his  duty. 
He  spends  much  time  in  saddle  or  under  canvas — 
the  friend  of  newly  planted  trees,  the  associate  of 
uncouth  rangers  and  hairy  trackers — till  the  woods 
that  show  his  care  in  turn  set  their  mark  upon  him 
and  he  ceases  to  sing  the  naughty  French  songs  he 
learned  at  Nancy,  and  grows  silent  with  the  silent 
things  of  the  undergrowth. 

Gisborne  of  the  Woods  and  Forests  had  spent 
four  years  in  the  service.  At  first  he  loved  it  with- 
out comprehension,  because  it  led  him  into  the  open 
on  horseback  and  gave  him  authority.  Then  he 
hated  it  furiously,  and  would  have  given  a  year's 
pay  for  one  month  of  such  society  as  India  affords. 
That  crisis  over,  the  forests  took  him  back  again, 
and  he  was  content  to  serve  them,  to  deepen  and 
widen  his  fire-lines,  to  watch  the  green  mist  of  his 
new  plantations  against  the  older  foliage,  to  dredge 
out  the  choked  stream,  and  to  follow  and  strengthen 
the  last  struggle  of  the  forest  where  it  broke  down 
and  died  among  the  long  pig-grass.  On  some  still  day 
that  grass  would  be  burned  off,  and  a  hundred 
beasts  that  had  their  homes  there  would  rush  out  be- 
fore the  pale  flames  at  high  noon.  Later,  the  forest 
would  creep  forward  over  the  blackened  ground  in 
orderly  lines  of  saplings,  and  Gisborne,  watching, 
would  be  well  pleased.  His  bungalow,  a  thatched 
white-walled  cottage  of  two  rooms,  was  set  at  one 
end  of  the  great  rukh  and  overlooking  it.  He  made 


IN  THE   RUKH.  225 

no  pretence  at  keeping  a  garden,  for  the  rulch  swept 
up  to  his  door,  curled  over  in  a  thicket  of  bamboo, 
and  he  rode  from  his  veranda  into  its  heart  with- 
out the  need  of  any  carriage  drive. 

Abdul  Gafur,  his  fat  Mohammedan  butler,  fed 
him  when  he  was  at  home,  and  spent  the  rest  of  the 
time  gossiping  with  the  little  band  of  native  serv- 
ants whose  huts  lay  behind  the  bungalow.  There 
were  two  grooms,  a  cook,  a  water-carrier,  and  a 
sweeper,  and  that  was  all.  Gisborne  cleaned  his 
own  guns  and  kept  no  dog.  Dogs  scared  the  game, 
and  it  pleased  the  man  to  be  able  to  say  where  the 
subjects  of  his  kingdom  would  drink  at  moonrise, 
eat  before  dawn,  and  lie  up  in  the  day's  heat.  The 
rangers  and  forest-guards  lived  in  little  huts  far 
away  in  the  rukh ;  only  appearing  when  one  of  them 
had  been  injured  by  a  falling  tree  or  a  wild  beast. 
There  Gisborne  was  alone. 

In  spring  the  rukh  put  out  few  new  leaves,  but 
lay  dry  and  still,  untouched  by  the  finger  of  the 
year,  waiting  for  rain.  Only  there  was  then  more 
calling  and  roaring  in  the  dark  on  a  quiet  night,  the 
tumult  of  a  battle-royal  among  the  tigers,  the  bel- 
lowing of  an  arrogant  buck,  or  the  steady  wood- 
chopping  of  an  old  boar  sharpening  his  tushes 
against  a  bole.  Then  Gisborne  laid  aside  his  little- 
used  gun  altogether,  for  it  was  to  him  a  sin  to  kill. 
In  summer,  through  the  furious  May  heats,  the  rukh 
reeled  in  the  haze,  and  Gisborne  watched  for  the 


226  MANY  INVENTIONS. 

first  sign  of  curling  smoke  that  should  betray  a  for- 
est fire.  Then  came  the  Rains  with  a  roar,  and  the 
rukli  was  blotted  out  in  fetch  after  fetch  of  warm 
mist,  and  the  broad  leaves  drummed  the  night 
through  under  the  big  drops ;  and  there  was  a  noise 
of  running  water,  and  of  juicy  green  stuff  crackling 
where  the  wind  struck  it,  and  the  lightning  wove 
patterns  behind  the  dense  matting  of  the  foliage  till 
the  sun  broke  loose  again  and  the  rukh  stood  with 
hot  flanks  smoking  to  the  newly  washed  sky.  Then 
the  heat  and  the  dry  cold  subdued  everything  to 
tiger-colour  again.  So  Gisborne  learned  to  know 
his  rukh  and  was  very  happy.  His  pay  came  month 
by  month,  but  he  had  very  little  need  for  money. 
The  currency  notes  accumulated  in  the  drawer 
where  he  kept  his  home-letters  and  the  recapping 
machine.  If  he  drew  anything,  it  was  to  make  a 
purchase  from  the  Calcutta  Botanical  Gardens,  or  to 
pay  a  ranger's  widow  a  sum  that  the  Government  of 
India  would  never  have  sanctioned. 

Payment  was  good,  but  vengeance  was  also 
necessary,  and  he  took  it  when  he  could.  One  night 
of  many  nights  a  runner,  breathless  and  gasping, 
came  to  him  with  the  news  that  a  forest  guard  lay 
dead  by  the  Kanye  stream,  the  side  of  his  head 
smashed  in  as  though  it  had  been  an  egg-shell. 
Gisborne  went  out  at  dawn  to  look  for  the  mur- 
derer. It  is  only  travellers  and  now  and  then  young 
soldiers  who  are  known  to  the  world  as  great  hunt- 


IN  THE  KUKH.  227 

ers.  The  Forest  Officers  take  their  shikar  as  part 
of  the  day's  work,  and  no  one  hears  of  it.  Gisborne 
went  on  foot  to  the  place  of  the  kill ;  the  widow  was 
wailing  over  the  corpse  as  it  lay  on  a  bedstead, 
while  two  or  three  men  were  looking  at  footprints 
on  the  moist  ground.  '  That  is  the  Red  One/  said  a 
man.  '  I  knew  he  would  turn  to  man  in  time,  but 
surely  there  is  game  enough  even  for  him.  This 
must  have  been  done  for  devilry/ 

'  The  Red  One  lies  up  in  the  rocks  at  the  back  of 
the  sal  trees/  said  Gisborne.  He  knew  the  tiger 
under  suspicion. 

'Not  now,  Sahib,  not  now.  He  will  be  raging 
and  ranging  to  and  fro.  Remember  that  the  first 
kill  is  a  triple  kill  always.  Our  blood  makes  them 
mad.  He  may  be  behind  us  even  as  we  speak.' 

'  He  may  have  gone  to  the  next  hut/  said  another. 
'  It  is  only  four  boss.  Wallah,  who  is  this ! ' 

Gisborne  turned  with  the  others.  A  man  was 
walking  down  the  dried  bed  of  the  stream,  naked 
except  for  the  loin-cloth,  but  crowned  with  a  wreath 
of  the  tasselled  blossoms  of  the  white  convolvulus 
creeper.  So  noiselessly  did  he  move  over  the  little 
pebbles,  that  even  Gisborne,  used  to  the  softfooted- 
ness  of  trackers,  started. 

'The  tiger  that  killed/  he  began  without  any 
salute,  'has  gone  to  drink,  and  now  he  is  asleep 
under  a  rock  beyond  that  hill.'  His  voice  was  clear 
and  bell-like,  utterly  different  from  the  usual  whine 


228  MANY  INVENTIONS. 

of  the  native,  and  his  face,  as  he  lifted  it  in  the 
sunshine,  might  have  been  that  of  an  angel  strayed 
among  the  woods.  The  widow  ceased  wailing  above 
the  corpse  and  looked  round  eyed  at  the  stranger, 
returning  to  her  duty  with  double  strength. 

1  Shall  I  show  the  Sahib  ? '  he  said  simply. 

'  If  thou  art  sure — '  Gisborne  began. 

'Sure  indeed.  I  saw  him  only  an  hour  ago — 
the  dog.  It  is  before  his  time  to  eat  man's  flesh. 
He  has  yet  a  dozen  sound  teeth  in  his  evil  head/ 

The  men  kneeling  above  the  footprints  slunk  off 
quietly,  for  fear  that  Gisborne  should  ask  them  to 
go  with  him,  and  the  young  man  laughed  a  little  to 
himself. 

'  Come,  Sahib/  he  cried  and  turned  on  his  heel, 
walking  before  his  companion. 

'  Not  so  fast.  I  cannot  keep  that  pace/  said  the 
white  man.  '  Halt  there.  Thy  face  is  new  to  me.' 

'  That  may  be.  I  am  but  newly  come  into  this 
forest.' 

'  From  what  village  ? ' 

'  I  am  without  a  village.  I  came  from  over 
there.'  He  flung  out  his  arm  towards  the  north. 

'  A  gipsy  then  ? ' 

'  No,  Sahib,  I  am  a  man  without  caste,  and  for 
matter  of  that  without  a  father.' 

'  What  do  men  call  thee  ? ' 

'Mowgli,  Sahib.  And  what  is  the  Sahib's 
name  ? ' 


IN  THE   RUKH.  229 

*  I  am  the  warden  of  this  rukh — Gisborne  is  my 
name/ 

'  How  ?  Do  they  number  the  trees  and  the 
blades  of  grass  here  ? ' 

'Even  so;  lest  such  gipsy  fellows  as  thou  set 
them  afire.' 

'  I !  I  would  not  hurt  the  jungle  for  any  gift. 
That  is  my  home.' 

He  turned  to  Gisborne  with  a  smile  that  was 
irresistible,  and  held  up  a  warning  hand. 

'  Now,  Sahib,  we  must  go  a  little  quietly.  There 
is  no  need  to  wake  the  dog,  though  he  sleeps 
heavily  enough.  Perhaps  it  were  better  if  I  went 
forward  alone  and  drove  him  down-wind  to  the 
Sahib.' 

'  Allah  !  Since  when  have  tigers  been  driven  to 
and  fro  like  cattle  by  naked  men  ? '  said  Gisborne, 
aghast  at  the  man's  audacity. 

He  laughed  again  softly.  '  Nay,  then,  come  along 
with  me  and  shoot  him  in  thy  own  way  with  the  big 
English  rifle.' 

Gisborne  stepped  in  his  guide's  track;  twisted, 
crawled,  and  clomb  and  stooped  and  suffered 
through  all  the  many  agonies  of  a  jungle-stalk. 
He  was  purple  and  dripping  with  sweat  when 
Mowgli  at  the  last  bade  him  raise  his  head  and  peer 
over  a  blue  baked  rock  near  a  tiny  hill  pool.  By  the 
water-side  lay  the  tiger  extended  and  at  ease,  lazily 
licking  clean  again  an  enormous  elbow  and  fore 


230  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

paw.  He  was  old,  yellow-toothed,  and  not  a  little 
mangy,  but  in  that  setting  and  sunshine,  imposing 
enough. 

Gisborne  had  no  false  ideas  of  sport  where  a 
man-eater  was  concerned.  This  thing  was  vermin, 
to  be  killed  as  speedily  as  possible.  He  waited  to 
recover  his  breath,  rested  the  rifle  on  the  rock  and 
whistled.  The  brute's  head  turned  slowly  not 
twenty  feet  from  the  rifle-mouth,  and  Gisborne 
planted  his  shots,  business-like,  one  behind  the 
shoulder  and  the  other  a  little  below  the  eye.  At 
that  range  the  heavy  bones  were  no  guard  against 
the  rending  bullets. 

'  Well,  the  skin  was  not  worth  keeping  at  any 
rate,'  said  he  as  the  smoke  cleared  away  and  the 
beast  lay  kicking  and  gasping  in  the  last  agony. 

'  A  dog's  death  for  a  dog,'  said  Mowgli  quietly. 
'  Indeed  there  is  nothing  in  that  carrion  worth  the 
taking  away.' 

'The  whiskers.  Dost  thou  not  take  the  whisk- 
ers ? '  said  Gisborne,  who  knew  how  .  the  rangers 
valued  such  things. 

'  I  ?  Am  I  a  lousy  shikarri  of  the  jungle  to  pad- 
dle with  a  tiger's  muzzle  ?  Let  him  lie.  Here  come 
his  friends  already/ 

A  dropping  kite  whistled  shrilly  overhead,  as 
Gisborne  snapped  out  the  empty  shells,  and  wiped 
his  face. 

*  And  if  thou  art  not  shikarri,  where  didst  thou 


IN  THE  KUKH.  231 

learn  thy  knowledge  of  the  tiger-folk  ? '  said  he. 
*  No  tracker  could  have  done  better.' 

*  I  hate  all  tigers/  said  Mowgli  curtly.  '  Let  the 
Sahib  give  me  his  gun  to  carry.  Arre,  it  is  a  very 
fine  one.  And  where  does  the  Sahib  go  now  ? ' 

'  To  my  house/ 

'  May  I  come  ?  I  have  never  yet  looked  within 
a  white  man's  house.' 

Gisborne  returned  to  his  bungalow,  Mowgli  strid- 
ing noiselessly  before  him,  his  brown  skin  glisten- 
ing in  the  sunlight. 

He  stared  curiously  at  the  veranda  and  the  two 
chairs  there,  fingered  the  split  bamboo  shade  cur- 
tains with  suspicion  and  entered,  looking  always 
behind  him.  Gisborne  loosed  a  curtain  to  keep  out 
the  sun.  It  dropped  with  a  clatter,  but  almost  be- 
fore it  had  touched  the  flagging  of  the  veranda 
Mowgli  had  leaped  clear  and  was  standing  with 
heaving  chest  in  the  open. 

' It  is  a  trap/  he  said  quickly. 

Gisborne  laughed.  ( White  men  do  not  trap  men. 
Indeed  thou  art  altogether  of  the  jungle/ 

'  I  see/  said  Mowgli,  '  it  has  neither  catch  nor 
fall.  I — I  never  beheld  these  things  till  to-day/ 

He  came  in  on  tiptoe  and  stared  with  large  eyes 
at  the  furniture  of  the  two  rooms.  Abdul  Gafur, 
who  was  laying  lunch,  looked  at  him  with  deep 
disgust. 

'  So  much  trouble  to  eat,  and  so  much  trouble  to 


232  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

lie  down  after  you  have  eaten ! '  said  Mowgli  with  a 
grin ;  '  we  do  better  in  the  jungle.  It  is  very  wonder- 
ful. There  are  very  many  rich  things  here.  Is  the 
Sahib  not  afraid  that  he  may  be  robbed  ?  I  have 
never  seen  such  wonderful  things/  He  was  staring 
at  a  dusty  Benares  brass  plate  on  a  ricketty  bracket. 

'Only  a  thief  from  the  jungle  would  rob  here/ 
said  Abdul  Gafur,  setting  down  a  plate  with  a 
clatter.  Mowgli  opened  his  eyes  wide  and  stared  at 
the  white-bearded  Mohammedan. 

1  In  my  country  when  goats  bleat  very  loud  we 
cut'  their  throats/  he  returned  cheerfully.  'But 
have  no  fear,  thou.  I  am  going.' 

He  turned  and  disappeared  into  the  rukh.  Gis- 
borne  looked  after  him  with  a  laugh  that  ended  in  a 
little  sigh.  There  was  not  much  outside  regular 
work  to  interest  a  Forest  Officer,  and  this  son  of  the 
forest,  who  seemed  to  know  tigers  as  other  people 
know  dogs,  would  have  been  a  diversion. 

'  He's  a  most  wonderful  chap/  thought  Gisborne ; 
'  he's  like  the  illustrations  in  the  Classical  Dictionary. 
I  wish  I  could  have  made  him  a  gun-boy.  There's 
no  fun  in  shikarring  alone,  and  this  fellow  would 
have  been  a  perfect  shikarri.  I  wonder  what  in  the 
world  he  is.' 

That  evening  he  sat  on  the  veranda  under  the 
stairs  smoking  as  he  wondered.  A  puff  of  smoke 
curled  from  the  pipe-bowl.  As  it  cleared  he  was 
aware  of  Mowgli  sitting  with  arms  crossed  on  the 


IN  THE  KUKH.  233 

veranda-edge.  A  ghost  could  not  have  drifted  up 
more  noiselessly.  Gisborne  started  and  let  the  pipe 
drop. 

'  There  is  no  man  to  talk  to  out  there  in  the  rukh,' 
said  Mowgli ;  '  I  came  here,  therefore.'  He  picked 
up  the  pipe  and  returned  it  to  Gisborne. 

'Oh/  said  Gisborne,  and  after  a  long  pause, 
'  What  news  is  there  in  the  rukh  f  Hast  thou  found 
another  tiger  ? ' 

1  The  nilghai  are  changing  their  feeding-ground 
against  the  new  moon,  as  is  their  custom.  The  pig 
are  feeding  near  the  Kanye  river  now,  because  they 
will  not  feed  with  the  nilghai,  and  one  of  their  sows 
has  been  killed  by  a  leopard  in  the  long  grass  at  the 
water-head.  I  do  not  know  any  more.' 

'  And  how  didst  thou  know  all  these  things  ? ' 
said  Gisborne,  leaning  forward  and  looking  at  the 
eyes  that  burned  in  the  starlight. 

'  How  should  I  not  know.  The  nilghai  has  his 
custom  and  his  use,  and  a  child  knows  that  pig  will 
not  feed  with  him.' 

'  I  do  not  know  this/  said  Gisborne. 

'  Tck  !  Tck !  And  thou  art  in  charge — so  the  men 
of  the  huts  tell  me — in  charge  of  all  this  rukh.'  He 
laughed  to  himself. 

*  It  is  well  enough  to  talk  and  to  tell  child's  tales/ 
Gisborne  retorted,  nettled  at  the  chuckle;  'to  say 
that  this  and  that  goes  on  in  the  rukh.  No  man  can 
deny  thee.' 


234  MANY  INVENTIONS. 

'  As  for  the  sow's  carcass,  I  will  show  thee  her 
bones  to-morrow/  Mowgli  returned,  absolutely  un- 
moved. '  Touching  the  matter  of  the  nilghai,  if  the 
Sahib  will  sit  here  very  still  I  will  drive  one  nilghai 
up  to  this  place,  and  by  listening  to  the  sounds  care- 
fully, the  Sahib  can  tell  whence  that  nilghai  has 
been  driven.' 

'  Mowgli,  the  jungle  has  made  thee  mad,'  said 
Gisborne.  '  Who  can  drive  nilghai  ? ' 

'  Still— sit  still,  then.    I  go.' 

'  Gad,  the  man's  a  ghost,'  said  Gisborne ;  for 
Mowgli  had  faded  out  into  the  darkness  and  there 
was  no  sound  of  feet.  The  rukh  lay  out  in  great 
velvety  folds  in  the  uncertain  shimmer  of  the  star- 
dust — so  still  that  the  least  little  wandering  wind 
among  the  tree-tops  came  up  as  the  sigh  of  a  child 
sleeping  equably.  Abdul  Gafur  in  the  cook-house 
was  clicking  plates  together. 

'  Be  still  there ! '  shouted  Gisborne,  and  composed 
himself  to  listen  as  a  man  can  who  is  used  to  the 
stillness  of  the  rukh.  It  had  been  his  custom,  to 
preserve  self-respect  in  his  isolation,  to  dress  for 
dinner  each  night,  and  the  stiff  white  shirt-front 
creaked  with  his  regular  breathing  till  he  shifted 
a  little  sideways.  Then  the  tobacco  of  a  somewhat 
foul  pipe  began  to  purr,  and  he  threw  the  i>ipe  from 
him.  Now,  except  for  the  night-breath  in  the  rukh, 
everything  was  dumb. 

From  an  inconceivable    distance,  and    drawled 


IN  THE   RUKH.  235 

through  immeasurable  darkness,  came  the  faint  echo 
of  a  wolf's  howl.  Then  silence  again  for,  it  seemed, 
long  hours.  At  last,  when  his  feet  below  the  knee 
had  lost  all  feeling,  Gisborne  heard  something  that 
might  have  been  a  crash  far  off  through  the  under- 
growth. He  doubted  till  it  was  repeated  again  and 
yet  again. 

*  That's  from  the  west,'  he  muttered ;  '  there's 
something*  on  foot  there.'  The  noise  increased — 
crash  on  crash,  plunge  on  plunge — with  the  thick 
grunting  of  a  hotly  pressed  nilghai,  flying  in  panic 
terror  and  taking  no  heed  to  his  feet. 

A  shadow  blundered  out  from  between  the  tree 
trunks,  wheeled  back,  turned  again  grunting,  and 
with  a  clatter  on  the  bare  ground  dashed  up  almost 
within  reach  of  his  hand.  It  was  a  bull  nilghai, 
dripping  with  dew — his  withers  hung  with  a  torn 
trail  of  creeper,  his  eyes  shining  in  the  light  from 
the  house.  The  creature  checked  at  sight  of  the 
man,  and  fled  along  the  edge  of  the  rukh  till  he 
melted  in  the  darkness.  The  first  idea  in  Gisborne's 
bewildered  mind  was  the  indecency  of  thus  dragging 
out  for  inspection  the  big  blue  bull  of  the  ruTch — the 
putting  him  through  his  paces  in  the  night,  which 
should  have  been  his  own. 

Then  said  a  level  voice  at  his  ear. 

'He  came  from  the  water-head  where  he  was 
leading  the  herd.  From  the  west  he  came.  Does 

the  Sahib  believe  now,  or  shall  I  bring  up  the  herd 
10 


236  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

to  be  counted  ?  The  Sahib  is  in  charge  of  this 
rukh.' 

Mowgli  had  reseated  himself  on  the  veranda, 
breathing  a  little  quickly.  Gisborne  looked  at  him 
with  open  mouth.  '  How  was  that  accomplished  ? ' 
he  said. 

'  The  Sahib  saw.  "She  bull  was  driven — driven  as 
a  buffalo  is.  Ho !  ho !  he  will  have  a  fine  tale-  to 
tell  when  he  returns  to  the  herd/ 

'  That  is  a  new  trick  to  me.  Canst  thou  run  as 
swiftly  as  the  nilghai,  then  ? ' 

'The  Sahib  has  seen.  If  the  Sahib  needs  more 
knowledge  at  any  time  of  the  movings  of  the  game, 
I,  Mowgli,  am  here.  This  is  a  good  rukh,  and  I  shall 
stay/ 

'  Stay,  then,  and  if  thou  hast  need  of  a  meal  at 
any  time  my  servants  shall  give  thee  one.' 

'  Yes,  indeed,  I  am  fond  of  cooked  food/  Mowgli 
answered  quickly.  '  No  man  may  say  that  I  do  not 
eat  boiled  and  roast  as  much  as  any  other  man.  I 
will  come  for  that  meal.  Now,  on  my  part,  I  prom- 
ise that  the  Sahib  shall  sleep  safely  in  his  house  by 
night  and  no  thief  shall  break  in  to  carry  away  his 
so  rich  treasures.' 

The  conversation  ended  itself  on  Mowgli's  abrupt 
departure.  Gisborne  sat  long  smoking,  and  the  up- 
shot of  his  thoughts  was  that  in  Mowgli  he  had 
found  at  last  that  ideal  ranger  and  forest-guard  for 
whom  he  and  the  Department  were  always  looking. 


IN  THE  RUKH.  237 

'I  must  get  him.  into  the  Government  service 
somehow.  A  man  who  can  drive  nilghai  would 
know  more  about  the  rukh  than  fifty  men.  He's  a 
miracle — a  lusus  natures, — but  a  forest-guard  he 
must  be  if  he'll  only  settle  down  in  one  place/  said 
Gisborne. 

Abdul  Gafur's  opinion  was  less  favourable.  He 
confided  to  Gisborne  at  bedtime  that  strangers  from 
God-knew- where  were  more  than  likely  to  be  pro- 
fessional thieves,  and  that  he  personally  did  not 
approve  of  naked  outcastes  who  had  not  the  proper 
manner  of  addressing  white  people.  Gisborne 
laughed  and  bade  him  go  to  his  quarters,  and  Abdul 
Gafur  retreated  growling.  Later  in  the  night  he 
found  occasion  to  rise  up  and  beat  his  thirteen-year- 
old  daughter.  Nobody  knew  the  cause  of  dispute, 
but  Gisborne  heard  the  cry. 

Through  the  days  that  followed  Mowgli  came 
and  went  like  a  shadow.  He  had  established  him- 
self and  his  wild  housekeeping  close  to  the  bunga- 
low, but  on  the  edge  of  the  rukh,  where  Gisborne, 
going  out  on  to  the  veranda  for  a  breath  of  cool 
air,  would  see  him  sometimes  sitting  in  the  moon- 
light, his  forehead  on  his  knees,  or  lying  out  along 
the  fling  of  a  branch,  closely  pressed  to  it  as  some 
beast  of  the  night.  Thence  Mowgli  would  throw 
him  a  salutation  and  bid  him  sleep  at  ease,  or  de- 
scending would  weave  prodigious  stories  of  the  man- 
ners of  the  beasts  in  the  rukh.  Once  he  strayed 


238  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

into  the  stables  and  was  found  looking  at  the  horses 
with  deep  interest. 

'  That,'  said  Abdul  Gaf ur  pointedly, '  is  sure  sign 
that  some  day  he  will  steal  one.  Why,  if  he  lives 
about  this  house,  does  he  not  take  an  honest  employ- 
ment ?  But  no,  he  must  wander  up  and  down  like  a 
loose  camel,  turning  the  heads  of  fools  and  open- 
ing the  jaws  of  the  unwise  to  folly.'  So  Abdul 
Gafur  would  give  harsh  orders  to  Mowgli  when 
they  met,  would  bid  him  fetch  water  and  pluck 
fowls,  and  Mowgli,  laughing  unconcernedly,  would 
obey. 

'  He  has  no  caste,'  said  Abdul  Gafur.  '  He  will 
do  anything.  Look  to  it,  Sahib,  that  he  does  not 
do  too  much.  A  snake  is  a  snake,  and  a  jungle 
gipsy  is  a  thief  till  the  death.' 

*  Be  silent  thou,'  said  Gisborne.  '  I  allow  thee  to 
correct  thy  own  household  if  there  is  not  too  much 
noise,  because  I  know  thy  customs  and  use.  My 
custom  thou  dost  not  know.  The  man  is  without 
doubt  a  little  mad.' 

'Very  little  mad  indeed,'  said  Abdul  Gafur.  'But 
we  shall  see  what  comes  thereof.' 

A  few  days  later  on  his  business  took  Gisborne 
into  the  ruJch  for  three  days.  Abdul  Gafur  being 
old  and  fat  was  left  at  home.  He  did  not  approve  of 
lying  up  in  rangers'  huts,  and  was  inclined  to  levy 
contributions  in  his  master's  name  of  grain  and  oil 
and  milk  from  those  who  could  ill  affoid  such 


IN  THE   EUKH.  239 

benevolences.  Gisborne  rode  off  early  one  dawn  a 
little  annoyed  that  his  man  of  the  woods  was  not  at 
the  veranda  to  accompany  him.  He  liked  him — 
liked  his  strength,  fleetness,  and  silence  of  foot,  and 
his  ever-ready  open  smile;  his  ignorance  of  all 
forms  of  ceremony  and  salutations,  and  the  child- 
like tales  that  he  would  tell  (and  Gisborne  would 
credit  now)  of  what  the  game  was  doing  in  the 
rukh.  After  an  hour's  riding  through  the  greenery, 
he  heard  a  rustle  behind  him,  and  Mowgli  trotted  at 
his  stirrup. 

*  We  have  a  three  days'  work  toward/  said  Gis- 
borne, '  among  the  new  trees.' 

'  Good,'  said  Mowgli.  '  It  is  always  good  to  cher- 
ish young  trees.  They  make  cover  if  the  beasts 
leave  them  alone.  We  must  shift  the  pig  again.' 

*  Again  ?    How  ? '  Gisborne  smiled. 

'  Oh,  they  were  rooting  and  tusking  among  the 
young  sal  last  night,  and  I  drove  them  off.  There- 
fore I  did  not  come  to  the  veranda  this  morning. 
The  pig  should  not  be  on  this  side  of  the  rukh  at 
all.  We  must  keep  them  below  the  head  of  the 
Kanye  river.' 

'  If  a  man  could  herd  clouds  he  might  do  that 
thing,  but,  Mowgli,  if  as  thou  sayest,  thou  art  herder 
in  the  rukh  for  no  gain  and  for  no  pay— 

'  It  is  the  Sahib's  rukh,'  said  Mowgli,  quickly 
looking  up.  Gisborne  nodded  thanks  and  went  on  : 
'  Would  it  not  be  better  to  work  for  pay  from  the 


240  MANY  INVENTIONS. 

Government  ?  There  is  a  pension  at  the  end  of  long 
service.' 

'  Of  that  I  have  thought/  said  Mowgli, '  but  the 
rangers  live  in  huts  with  shut  doors,  and  all  that  is 
all  to  much  a  trap  to  me.  Yet  I  think ' 

'Think  well,  then,  and  tell  me  later.  Here  we 
will  stay  for  breakfast.' 

Gisborne  dismounted,  took  his  morning  meal 
from  his  home-made  saddle  bags,  and  saw  the  day 
open  hot  above  the  rukh.  Mowgli  lay  in  the  grass 
at  his  side  staring  up  to  the  sky. 

Presently  he  said  in  a  lazy  whisper :  '  Sahib,  is 
there  any  order  at  the  bungalow  to  take  out  the 
white  mare  to-day  ? ' 

'  No,  she  is  fat  and  old  and  a  little  lame  beside. 
Why?' 

'  She  is  being  ridden  now  and  not  slowly  on  the 
road  that  runs  to  the  railway  line.' 

'Bah,  that  is  two  koss  away.  It  is  a  wood- 
pecker/ 

Mowgli  put  up  his  forearm  to  keep  the  sun  out 
of  his  eyes. 

'  The  road  curves  in  with  a  big  curve  from  the 
bungalow.  It  is  not  more  than  a  koss,  at  the  far- 
thest, as  the  kite  goes,  and  sound  flies  with  the  birds. 
Shall  we  see  ? ' 

'  What  folly !  To  go  a  koss  in  this  sun  to  see  a 
noise  in  the  forest.' 

'  Nay,  the  pony  is  the  Sahib's  pony.    I  meant 


IN  THE  RUKH.  241 

only  to  bring  her  here.  If  she  is  not  the  Sahib's 
pony,  no  matter.  If  she  is,  the  Sahib  can  do  what 
he  wills.  She  is  certainly  being  ridden  fast.' 

'  And  how  wilt  thou  bring  her  here,  madman  ? ' 

'  Has  the  Sahib  forgotten  ?  By  the  road  of  the 
nilghai  and  no  other/ 

'  Up,  then,  and  run  if  thou  art  so  full  of  zeal.' 

'  Oh,  I  do  not  run ! '  He  put  out  his  hand  to  sign 
for  silence,  and  still  lying  on  his  back  called  aloud 
thrice — with  a  long  gurgling  cry  that  was  new  to 
Gisborne. 

'  She  will  come/  he  said  at  the  end.  *  Let  us  wait 
in  the  shade.'  The  long  eyelashes  drooped  over  the 
wild  eyes  as  Mowgli  began  to  doze  in  the  morn- 
ing hush.  Gisborne  waited  patiently.  Mowgli  was 
surely  mad,  but  as  entertaining  a  companion  as  a 
lonely  Forest  Officer  could  desire. 

'  Ho !  ho ! '  said  Mowgli  lazily,  with  shut  eyes. 
*  He  has  dropped  off.  Well,  first  the  mare  will  come 
and  then  the  man.'  Then  he  yawned  as  Gisborne's 
pony  stallion  neighed.  Three  minutes  later  Gis- 
borne's white  mare,  saddled,  bridled,  but  riderless, 
tore  into  the  glade  where  they  were  sitting,  and  hur- 
ried to  her  companion. 

1  She  is  not  very  warm,'  said  Mowgli,  *  but  in  this 
heat  the  sweat  comes  easily.  Presently  we  shall  see 
her  rider,  for  a  man  goes  more  slowly  than  a  horse 
— especially  if  he  chance  to  be  a  fat  man  and  old.' 

'Allah!    This   is  the  devil's  work,'    cried   Gis- 


242  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

borne  leaping  to  his  feet,  for  he  heard  a  yell  in  the 
jungle. 

(  Have  no  care,  Sahib.  He  will  not  be  hurt.  He 
also  will  say  that  it  is  devil's  work.  Ah !  Listen ! 
Who  is  that?' 

It  was  the  voice  of  Abdul  Gafur  in  an  agony  of 
terror  crying  out  upon  unknown  things  to  spare 
him,  and  his  gray  hairs. 

( Nay,  I  cannot  move  another  step,'  he  howled. 
'I  am  old  and  my  turban  is  lost.  ArreM  Arre! 
But  I  will  move.  Indeed  I  will  hasten.  I  will  run ! 
Oh,  Devils  of  the  Pit,  I  am  a  Mussalman ! ' 

The  undergrowth  parted  and  revealed  Abdul 
Gafur,  turbanless,  shoeless,  with  his  waist-cloth  un- 
bound, mud  and  grass  in  his  clutched  hands,  and  his 
face  purple.  He  saw  Gisborne,  yelled  anew,  and 
pitched  forwards  exhausted  and  quivering  at  his 
feet.  Mowgli  watched  him  with  a  sweet  smile. 

'  This  is  no  joke,'  said  Gisborne  sternly.  '  The 
man  is  like  to  die/ 

'He  will  not  die.  He  is  only  afraid.  There 
was  no  need  that  he  should  have  come  out  of  a 
walk/ 

Abdul  Gafur  groaned  and  rose  up,  shaking  in 
every  limb. 

'It  was  witchcraft!  Witchcraft  and  devildom,' 
he  sobbed,  fumbling  with  his  hand  in  his  breast. 
'  Because  of  my  sin  I  have  been  whipped  through 
the  woods  by  devils.  It  is  all  finished.  I  repent. 


IN  THE  KUKH.  243 

Take  them,  Sahib!'  He  held  out  a  roll  of  dirty 
paper. 

*  What  is  the  meaning  of  this,  Abdul  Gafur  ? ' 
said  Gisborne,  already  knowing  what  would  come. 

1  Put  me  in  the  jail-khana — the  notes  are  all  here 
— but  lock  me  up  safely  that  no  devils  may  follow. 
I  have  sinned  against  the  Sahib  and  his  salt  which 
I  have  eaten,  and  but  for  those  accursed  wood- 
demons,  I  might  have  bought  land  afar  off  and  lived 
in  peace  all  my  days.'  He  bent  his  head  upon  the 
ground  in  an  agony  of  despair  and  mortificaition. 
Gisborne  turned  the  roll  of  notes  over  and  over.  It 
was  his  accumulated  back-pay  for  the  last  nine 
months — the  roll  that  lay  in  the  drawer  with  the 
home-letters  and  the  recapping  machine.  Mowgli 
watched  Abdul  Gafur,  laughing  noiselessly  to  him- 
self. '  There  is  no  need  to  put  me  on  the  horse 
again.  I  will  walk  home  slowly  with  the  Sahib, 
and  then  he  can  send  me  under  guard  to  the  jail- 
khana.  The  Government  gives  many  years  for  this 
offence/  said  the  butler  sullenly. 

Loneliness  in  the  rukh  affects  very  many  ideas 
about  very  many  things.  Gisborne  stared  at  Abdul 
Gafur,  remembering  that  he  was  a  very  good  serv- 
ant, and  that  a  new  butler  must  be  broken  into 
the  ways  of  the  house  from  the  beginning,  and  at 
the  best  would  be  a  new  face  and  a  new  tongue. 

'  Listen,  Abdul  Gafur/  he  said.  '  Thou  hast  done 
great  wrong,  and  altogether  lost  thy  izzat  and  thy 


244  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

reputation.  But  I  know  that  this  came  upon  thee 
suddenly/' 

'Allah!  I  had  never  desired  the  notes  before. 
The  Evil  took  me  by  the  throat  while  I  looked.' 

'  That  also  I  can  believe.  Go,  then,  back  to  my 
house,  and  when  I  return  I  will  send  the  notes  by  a 
runner  to  the  Bank,  and  there  shall  be  no  more 
said.  Thou  art  too  old  for  the  jail-khana.  Also  thy 
household  is  guiltless.' 

For  answer  Abdul  Gafur  sobbed  between  Gis- 
borne's  cowhide  riding  boots. 

1  Is  there  no  dismissal  then  ? '  he  gulped. 

'  That  we  shall  see.  It  hangs  upon  thy  conduct 
when  we  return.  Get  upon  the  mare  and  ride  slow- 
ly back.' 

*  But  the  devils !    The  rukh  is  full  of  devils ! ' 

'No  matter,  my  father.  They  will  do  thee  no 
more  harm  unless  indeed  the  Sahib's  orders  be  not 
obeyed/  said  Mowgli.  '  Then,  perchance,  they  may 
drive  thee  home — by  the  road  of  the  nilghai.' 

Abdul  Gafur's  lower  jaw  dropped  as  he  twisted 
up  his  waist-cloth,  staring  at  Mowgli. 

'  Are  they  his  devils  ?  His  devils !  And  I  had 
thought  to  return  and  put  the  blame  upon  this  war- 
lock ! ' 

'  <That  was  well  thought  of,  Huzrut ;  but  before 
we  make  a  trap  we  see  first  how  big  the  game  is 
that  may  fall  into  it.  Now  I  thought  no  more  than 
that  a  man  had  taken  one  of  the  Sahib's  horses.  I 


IN  THE  KUKH.  245 

did  not  know  that  the  design  was  to  make  me  a 
thief  before  the  Sahib,  or  my  devils  had  haled  thee 
here  by  the  leg.  It  is  not  too  late  now.' 

Mowgli  looked  inquiringly  at  Gisborne,  but  Ab- 
dul Gafur  waddled  hastily  to  the  white  mare, 
scrambled  on  her  back  and  fled  ;  the  woodways 
crashing  and  echoing  behind  him. 

'  That  was  well  done,'  said  Mowgli.  '  But  he  will 
fall  again  unless  he  holds  by  the  mane.' 

'Now  it  is  time  to  tell  me  what  these  things 
mean/  said  Gisborne  a  little  sternly.  '  What  is  this 
talk  of  thy  devils  ?  How  can  men  be  driven  up  and 
down  the  rukli  like  cattle  ?  Give  answer.' 

'  Is  the  Sahib  angry  because  I  have  saved  him  his 
money  ? ' 

f  No,  but  there  is  trickwork  in  this  that  does  not 
please  me.' 

'Very  good.  Now  if  I  rose  and  stepped  three 
paces  into  the  rukh  there  is  no  one,  not  even  the 
Sahib,  could  find  me  till  I  choose.  As  I  would 
not  willingly  do  this,  so  I  would  not  willingly  tell. 
Have  patience  a  little,  Sahib,  and  some  day  I  will 
show  thee  everything,  for,  if  thou  wilt,  some  day  we 
will  drive  the  buck  together.  There  is  no  devil- 
work  in  the  matter  at  all.  Only  I  know  the  rukh  as 
a  man  knows  the  cooking-place  in  his  house.' 

Mowgli  was  speaking  as  he  would  speak  to  an 
impatient  child.  Gisborne,  puzzled,  baffled,  and  not 
a  little  annoyed,  said  nothing,  but  stared  on  the 


246  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

ground  and  thought.  When  he  looked  up  the  man 
of  the  woods  had  gone. 

'It  is  not  good/  said  a  calm  voice  from  the 
thicket,  '  for  friends  to  be  angry.  Wait  till  the 
evening,  Sahib,  when  the  air  cools/ 

Left  to  himself  thus,  dropped  as  it  were  in  the 
heart  of  the  rukh,  Gisborne  swore,  then  laughed, 
remounted  his  pony,  and  rode  on.  He  visited  a 
ranger's  hut,  overlooked  a  couple  of  new  planta- 
tions, left  some  orders  as  to  the  burning  of  a  patch 
of  dry  grass,  and  set  out  for  a  camping-ground  of 
his  own  choice,  a  pile  of  splintered  rocks  roughly 
roofed  over  with  branches  and  leaves  not  far  from 
the  banks  of  the  Kanye  stream.  It  was  twilight 
when  he  came  in  sight  of  his  resting-place,  and  the 
rukh  was  waking  to  the  hushed  ravenous  life  of  the 
night. 

A  camp-fire  flickered  on  the  knoll,  and  there  was 
the  smell  of  a  very  good  dinner  in  the  wind. 

fUm/  said  Gisborne,  'that's  better  than  cold 
meat  at  any  rate.  Now  the  only  man  who'd  be 
likely  to  be  here'd  be  Muller,  and,  officially,  he 
ought  to  be  looking  over  the  Changamanga  rukh. 
I  suppose  that's  why  he's  on  my  ground/ 

The  gigantic  German  who  was  the  head  of  the 
Woods  and  Forests  of  all  India,  Head  Ranger  from 
Burma  to  Bombay,  had  a  habit  of  flitting  bat-like 
without  warning  from  one  place  to  another,  and 
turning  up  exactly  where  he  was  least  looked  for. 


IN  THE  RUKH.  247 

His  theory  was  that  sudden  visitations,  the  discov- 
ery of  shortcomings  and  a  word-of -mouth  upbraid- 
ment  of  a  subordinate  were  infinitely  better  than 
the  slow  processes  of  correspondence,  which  might 
end  in  a  written  and  official  reprimand — a  thing  in 
after  years  to  be  counted  against  a  Forest  Officer's 
record.  As  he  explained  it:  'If  I  only  talk  to  my 
boys  like  a  Dutch  uncle,  dey  say,  "  It  was  only  dot 
damned  old  Muller,"  and  dey  do  better  next  dime. 
But  if  my  fat-head  clerk  he  write  and  say  dot 
Muller  der  Inspecdor-General  fail  to  onderstand  and 
is  much  annoyed,  first  dot  does  no  goot  because  I  am 
not  dere,  and  second  der  fool  dot  comes  after  me  he 
may  say  to  my  best  boys:  "Mein  Gott!  you  haf 
been  wigged  by  my  bredecessor."  I  tell  you  der  big 
brass-hat  pizness  does  not  make  der  trees  grow/ 

Muller's  deep  voice  was  coming  out  of  the  dark- 
ness behind  the  firelight  as  he  bent  over  the  shoul- 
ders of  his  pet  cook.  '  Not  so  much  sauce,  you  son 
of  Belial !  Worcester  sauce  he  is  a  gondiment  and 
not  a  fluid.  Ah,  Gisborne,  you  haf  come  to  a  very 
bad  dinner.  Where  is  your  camp  ? '  and  he  walked 
up  to  shake  hands. 

'I'm  the  camp,  sir/  said  Gisborne.  'I  didn't 
know  you  were  about  here/ 

Muller  looked  at  the  young  man's  trim  figure. 
'  Goot !  That  is  very  goot !  One  horse  and  some 
cold  things  to  eat.  When  I  was  young  I  did  my 
camp  so.  Now  you  shall  dine  with  me.  I  went 


248  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

into  Headquarters  to  make  up  my  report  last  month. 
I  haf  written  half — ho!  ho! — and  der  rest  I  haf 
leaved  to  rny  glerks  and  come  out  for  a  walk.  Der 
Government  is  mad  about  dose  reports.  I  dold  der 
Viceroy  so  at  Simla.' 

Gisborne  chuckled,  remembering  the  many  tales 
that  were  told  of  Muller's  conflicts  with  the  Supreme 
Government.  He  was  the  chartered  libertine  of  all 
the  offices,  for  as  a  Forest  Officer  he  had  no  equal. 

'  If  I  find  you,  Gisborne,  sitting  in  your  bungalow 
und  hatching  reports  to  me  about  der  blantations 
instead  of  riding  der  blantations,  I  will  transfer  you 
to  der  middle  of  der  Bikaneer  Desert  to  reforest  him. 
I  am  sick  of  reports  und  chewing  paper  when  we 
should  do  our  work.' 

'There's  not  much  danger  of  my  wasting  time 
over  my  annuals.  I  hate  'em  as  much  as  you  do, 
sir.' 

The  talk  went  over  at  this  point  to  professional 
matters.  Muller  had  some  questions  to  ask,  and 
Gisborne  orders  and  hints  to  receive  till  dinner  was 
ready.  It  was  the  most  civilised  meal  that  Gisborne 
had  eaten  for  months.  No  distance  from  the  base  of 
supplies  was  allowed  to  interfere  with  the  work  of 
Muller's  cook,  and  that  table  spread  in  the  wilder- 
ness began  with  devilled  small  fresh-water  fish,  and 
ended  with  coffee  and  cognac. 

' Ah!'  said  Muller  at  the  end,  with  a  sigh  of 
satisfaction  as  he  lighted  a  cheroot  and  dropped  into 


IN  THE  RUKH.  249 

his  much  worn  camp-chair.  'When  I  am  making 
reports  I  am  Freethinker  und  Atheist,  "but  here  in 
der  rukh  I  am  more  dan  Christian.  I  am  Bagan 
also.'  He  rolled  the  cheroot-butt  luxuriously  under 
his  tongue,  dropped  his  hands  on  his  knees,  and 
stared  before  him  into  the  dim  shifting  heart  of  the 
rukh,  full  of  stealthy  noises,  the  snapping  of  twigs 
like  the  snapping  of  the  fire  behind  him,  the  sigh 
and  rustle  of  a  heat-bended  branch  recovering  her 
straightness  in  the  cool  night ;  the  incessant  mutter 
of  the  Kanye  stream,  and  the  undernote  of  the 
many-peopled  grass  uplands  out  of  sight  beyond  a 
swell  of  hill.  He  blew  out  a  thick  puff  of  smoke, 
and  began  to  quote  Heine  to  himself. 

'  Yes,  it  is  very  goot.  Very  goot.  "  Yes,  I  work 
miracles,  and,  by  Gott,  dey  come  off  too."  I  remem- 
ber when  dere  was  no  rukh  more  big  than  your 
knee,  from  here  to  der  plough-lands,  und  in  drought- 
time  der  cattle  ate  bones  of  dead  cattle  up  and  down. 
Now  der  trees  haf  come  back.  Dey  were  planted  by 
a  Freethinker,  because  he  know  just  de  cause  dot 
made  der  effect.  But  der  trees  dey  had  der  cult  of 
der  old  gods.  "  Und  der  Christian  gods  howl  loud- 
ly." Dey  could  not  live  in  der  rukh,  Gisborne/ 

A  shadow  moved  in  one  of  the  bridle-paths — 
moved  and  came  out  into  the  starlight. 

'  I  haf  said  true.  Hush !  Here  is  Faunus  him- 
self come  to  see  der  Inspecdor- General.  Himmel,  he 
is  der  god !  Look ! ' 


250  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

It  was  Mowgli,  crowned  with  a  wreath,  of  white 
flowers  and  walking  with  a  half-peeled  branch — 
Mowgli,  very  mistrustful  of  the  fire-light  and  ready 
to  fly  back  to  the  thicket  on  the  least  alarm. 

'  That's  a  friend  of  mine '  said  Gisborne.  '  He's 
looking  for  me.  Ohe",  Mowgli ! ' 

Muller  had  barely  time  to  gasp  before  the  man 
was  at  Gisborne's  side,  crying :  '  I  was  wrong  to  go. 
I  was  wrong,  but  I  did  not  know  then  that  the  mate 
of  him  that  was  killed  by  this  river  was  awake  look- 
ing for  the  slayer.  Else  I  should  not  have  gone 
away.  She  tracked  thee  from  the  back-range,  Sa- 
hib.' 

'  He  is  a  little  mad,'  said  Gisborne, '  and  he  speaks 
of  all  the  beasts  about  here  as  if  he  was  a  friend  of 
theirs.' 

'  Of  course — of  course.  If  Faunus  does  not 
know,  who  should  know  ? '  said  Muller  gravely. 
'  What  does  he  say  about  tigers  ? — dis  god  who 
knows  you  so  well.' 

Gisborne  relighted  his  cheroot,  and  before  he  had 
finished  the  story  of  Mowgli  and  his  exploits  it  was 
burned  down  to  moustache-edge.  Muller  listened 
without  interruption.  '  Dot  is  not  madness/  he  said 
at  last,  when  Gisborne  had  described  the  driving  of 
Abdul  Gafur.  '  Dot  is  not  madness  at  all/ 

'  What  is  it,  then  ?  He  left  me  in  a  temper  this 
morning  because  I  asked  him  to  tell  how  he  did  it. 
I  fancy  the  chap's  possessed  in  some  way/ 


IN  THE  EUKH.  251 

'  No,  dere  is  no  bossession,  but  it  is  most  wonder- 
ful. Normally  dey  die  young — dese  beople.  Und 
you  say  now  dot  your  thief-servant  did  not  say  what 
drove  der  pony,  und  of  course  der  nilghai  he  could 
not  speak/ 

'  No,  but,  confound  it,  there  wasn't  anything.  I 
listened,  and  I  can  hear  most  things.  The  bull  and 
the  man  simply  came. headlong — mad  with  fright.' 

For  answer  Muller  looked  Mowgli  up  and  down 
from  head  to  foot,  then  beckoned  him  nearer.  He 
came  as  a  buck  treads  a  tainted  trail. 

'  There  is  no  harm,'  said  Muller  in  the  vernacu- 
lar. '  Thy  arm.' 

He  ran  his  hand  down  to  the  elbow,  felt  that, 
and  nodded.  '  So  I  thought.  Now  the  knee.'  Gis- 
borne  saw  him  feel  the  knee-cap  and  smile.  Two  or 
three  white  scars  just  above  the  ankle  caught  his 
eye. 

'  Those  came  when  thou  wast  very  young  ? '  he 
said. 

'Ay/  Mowgli  answered  with  a  smile.  'They 
were  love-tokens  from  the  little  ones.'  Then  to  Gis- 
borne  over  his  shoulder.  '  This  Sahib  knows  every- 
thing. Who  is  he-?' 

'Dot  comes  after,  my  friend.  Now  where  are 
they  ?'  said  Muller. 

Mowgli  swept  his  hand  round  his  head  in  a 
circle. 

'  So !     And    thou    canst    drive    nilghai  ?     See ! 
17 


252  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

There  is  my  mare  in  her  pickets.  Canst  thou  bring 
her  to  me  without  frightening  .her  ? ' 

'  Can  I  bring  the  mare  to  the  Sahib  without 
frightening  her ! '  Mowgli  repeated,  raising  his  voice 
a  little  above  its  normal  pitch.  '  What  is  more  easy, 
if  the  heel-ropes  are  loose.' 

'  Loosen  the  head  and  heel-pegs/  shouted  Muller 
to  the  groom.  They  were  hardly  out  of  the  ground 
before  the  mare,  a  huge  black  Australian,  flung  up 
her  head  and  cocked  her  ears. 

'Careful!  I  do  not  wish  her  driven  into  the 
rukh}'  said  Muller. 

Mowgli  stood  still  fronting  the  blaze  of  the  fire 
— in  the  very  form  and  likeness  of  that  Greek  god 
who  is  so  lavishly  described  in  the  novels.  The 
mare  whickered,  drew  up  one  hind  leg,  found  that 
the  heel-ropes  were  free,  and  moved  swiftly  to  her 
master,  on  whose  bosom  she  dropped  her  head, 
sweating  lightly. 

'  She  came  of  her  own  accord.  My  horses  will  do 
that/  cried  Gisborne. 

*  Feel  if  she  sweats/  said  Mowgli. 

Gisborne  laid  a  hand  on  the  damp  flank. 

'  It  is  enough/  said  Muller. 

'  It  is  enough/  Mowgli  repeated,  and  a  rock  be- 
hind him  threw  back  the  word. 

'That's  uncanny  enough,  isn't  it  ?'  said  Gisborne. 

'  No,  only  wonderful — most  wonderful.  Still  you 
do  not  know,  Gisborne  ?  * 


IN  THE  RUKH.  253 

*  I  confess  I  don't.' 

'  Well  then,  I  shall  not  tell.  He  says  dot  some 
day  he  will  show  you  what  it  is.  It  would  be  gruel 
if  I  told.  But  why  he  is  not  dead  I  do  not  under- 
stand. Now  listen  thou.'  Muller  faced  Mowgli,  and 
returned  to  the  vernacular.  '  I  am  the  head  of  all 
the  rukhs  in  the  country  of  India  and  farther  across 
the  Black  Water.  I  do  not  know  how  many  men  be 
under  me — perhaps  five  thousand,  perhaps  ten.  Thy 
business  is  this, — to  wander  no  more  up  and  down 
the  rukh  and  drive  beasts  for  sport  or  for  show,  but 
to  take  service  under  me,  who  am  the  Government 
in  the  matter  of  Woods  and  Forests,  and  to  live  in 
this  rukh  as  a  forest-guard ;  to  drive  the  villagers' 
goats  away  when  there  is  no  order  to  feed  them  in 
the  rukh  ;  to  admit  them  when  there  is  an  order ;  to 
keep  down  as  thou  canst  keep  down  the  boar  and 
the  nilghai  when  they  become  too  many;  to  tell 
Gisborne  Sahib  how  and  where  the  tigers  move,  and 
what  game  there  is  in  the  forests ;  and  to  give  sure 
warning  of  all  the  fires  in  the  rukh,  for  thou  canst 
give  warning  more  quickly  than  any  other.  For 
that  work  there  is  a  payment  each  month  in  silver, 
and  at  the  end  when  thou  hast  gathered  a  wife  and 
cattle,  and,  may  be,  children,  a  pension.  What  an- 
swer ? ' 

'  That's  just  what  I '  Gisborne  began. 

'  My  Sahib  spoke  this  morning  of  such  a  service. 
I  walked  all  day  alone  considering  the  matter,  and 


254  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

my  answer  is  ready  here.  I  serve,  if  I  serve  in  this 
rukh  and  no  other :  with  Gisborne  Sahib  and  with 
no  other/ 

'It  shall  be  so.  In  a  week  comes  the  written 
order  that  pledges  the  honour  of  the  Government 
for  the  pension.  After  that  thou  wilt  take  up  thy 
hut  where  Gisborne  Sahib  shall  appoint.' 

'  I  was  going  to  speak  to  you  about  it/  said  Gis- 
borne. 

'  I  did  not  want  to  be  told  when  I  saw  that  man. 
Dere  will  never  be  a  forest-guard  like  him.  He  is  a 
miracle.  I  tell  you,  Gisborne,  some  day  you  will 
find  it  so.  He  is  blood-brother  to  every  beast  in 
der  rukh I ' 

' I  should  be  easier  in  my  mind  if  I  could  under- 
stand him/ 

'  Dot  will  come.  Now  I  tell  you  dot  only  once  in 
my  service,  and  dot  is  thirty  years,  haf  I  met  a  boy 
dot  began  as  this  man  began,  Und  he  died.  Some- 
times you  hear  of  dem  in  der  census  reports,  but  dey 
all  die.  Dis  man  haf  lived,  und  he  is  an  anachro- 
nism, for  he  is  before  der  Iron  Age,  and  der  Stone 
Age.  Look  here,  he  is  at  der  beginnings  of  der  his- 
tory of  man — Adam  in  der  Garden,  und  now  we 
want  only  an  Eva!  No.  He  is  older  dan  dot  child- 
tale,  shust  as  der  rukh  is  older  dan  der  gods.  Gis- 
borne, I  am  a  Bagan  now,  once  for  all/ 

Through  the  rest  of  the  long  evening  Muller  sat 
smoking  and  smoking,  and  staring  and  staring  into 


IN  THE   RUKH.  255 

the  darkness,  his  lips  moving  in  multiplied  quota- 
tions, and  great  wonder  upon  his  face.  He  went 
to  his  tent,  but  presently  came  out  again  in  his  ma- 
jestic pink  sleeping  suit,  and  the  last  words  that 
Gisborne  heard  him  address  to  the  rukh  through  the 
deep  hush  of  midnight  were  these,  delivered  with 
immense  emphasis : — 

'  Dough  we  shivt  und  bedeck  und  bedrape  us, 

Don  art  noble  und  nude  und  andeek ; 
Libidina  dy  moder,  Briapus 
Dy  fader,  a  god  und  a  Greek. 

Now  I  know  dot  Bagan  or  Christian  I  shall  nefer 
know  der  inwardness  of  der  rukh.' 

It  was  midnight  in  the  bungalow  a  week  later 
when  Abdul  Gafur,  ashy  gray  with  rage,  stood  at 
the  foot  of  Gisborne's  bed  and  whispering  bade  him 
awake. 

'  Up,  Sahib,'  he  stammered.  '  Up  and  bring  thy 
gun.  Mine  honour  is  gone.  Up  and  kill  before 
any  see ! ' 

The  old  man's  face  had  changed,  so  that  Gisborne 
stared  stupidly. 

'  It  was  for  this,  then,  that  that  jungle  outcaste 
helped  me  to  polish  the  Sahib's  table,  and  drew 
water  and  plucked  fowls.  They  have  gone  off  to- 
gether for  all  my  beatings,  and  now  he  sits  among 
his  devils  dragging  her  soul  to  the  Pit.  Up,  Sahib, 
and  come  with  me ! ' 


256  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

He  thrust  a  rifle  into  Gisborne's  half -wakened 
hand  and  almost  dragged  him  from  the  room  on  to 
the  veranda. 

'  They  are  there  in  the  rukli  j  even  within  gun- 
shot of  the  house.  Come  softly  with  me.' 

'  But  what  is  it  ?    What  is  the  trouble,  Abdul  ? ' 

'  Mowgli,  and  his  devils.  Also  my  own  daughter/ 
said  Abdul  Gafur.  Gisborne  whistled  and  followed 
his  guide.  Not  for  nothing,  he  knew,  had  Abdul 
Gafur  beaten  his  daughter  of  nights,  and  not  for 
nothing  had  Mowgli  helped  in  the  housework  a 
man  whom  his  own  powers,  whatever  those  were, 
had  convicted  of  theft.  Also,  a  forest  wooing  goes 
quickly. 

There  was  the  breathing  of  a  flute  in  the  ruJch,  as 
it  might  have  been  the  song  of  some  wandering 
wood-god,  and,  as  they  came  nearer,  a  murmur  of 
voices.  The  path  ended  in  a  little  semicircular 
glade  walled  partly  by  high  grass  and  partly  by 
trees.  In  the  centre,  upon  a  fallen  trunk,  his  back 
to  the  watchers  and  his  arm  round  the  neck  of 
Abdul  Gaf  ur's  daughter,  sat  Mowgli,  newly  crowned 
with  flowers,  playing  upon  a  rude  bamboo  flute,  to 
whose  music  four  huge  wolves  danced  solemnly  on 
their  hind  legs. 

'Those  are  his  devils/  Abdul  Gafur  whispered. 
He  held  a  bunch  of  cartridges  in  his  hand.  The 
beasts  dropped  to  a  long-drawn  quavering  note  and 
lay  still  with  steady  green  eyes  glaring  at  the  girl. 


IN  THE  RUKH.  257 

'  Behold,'  said  Mowgli,  laying  aside  the  flute.  '  Is 
there  anything  of  fear  in  that  ?  I  told  thee,  little 
Stout-heart,  that  there  was  not,  and  thou  didst  be- 
lieve. Thy  father  said — and  oh,  if  thou  couldst  have 
seen  thy  father  being  driven  by  the  road  of  the 
nilghai ! — thy  father  said  that  they  were  devils ;  and 
by  Allah,  who  is  thy  God,  I  do  not  wonder  that  he 
so  believed.'  The  girl  laughed  a  little  rippling 
laugh,  and  Gisborne  heard  Abdul  grit  his  few  re- 
maining teeth.  This  was  not  at  all  the  girl  that  Gis- 
borne had  seen  with  a  half-eye  slinking  about  the 
compound  veiled  and  silent ;  but  another — a  woman 
full  blown  in  a  night  as  the  orchid  puts  out  in  an 
hour's  moist  heat. 

( But  they  are  my  playmates  and  my  brothers, 
children  of  that  mother  that  gave  me  suck,  as  I 
told  thee  behind  the  cook-house,'  Mowgli  went  on. 
'Children  of  the  father  that  lay  between  me  and 
the  cold  at  the  mouth  of  the  cave  when  I  was  a 
little  naked  child.  Look,'  a  wolf  raised  his  huge 
head  slavering  at  Mowgli's  feet, '  my  brother  knows 
that  I  speak  of  them.  Yes,  when  I  was  a  little  child 
he  was  a  cub  rolling  with  me  on  the  clay.' 

'  But  thou  hast  said  that  thou  art  human  born,' 
cooed  the  girl,  nestling  closer  to  the  shoulder.  '  Thou 
art  human  born  ? ' 

'  Said  !  Nay,  I  know  that  I  am  human  born,  be- 
cause my  heart  is  in  thy  hold,  little  one.'  The  head 
dropped  under  Mowgli's  chin.  Gisborne  put  up  a 


258  MANY  INVENTIONS. 

warning  hand  to  restrain  Abdul  Gafur,  not  in  the 
least  impressed  by  the  wonder  of  the  sight. 

1  But  I  was  a  wolf  among  wolves  none  the  less  till 
a  time  came  when  Those  of  the  jungle  bade  me  go 
because  I  was  a  man/ 

*  Who  bade  thee  go  ?  That  is  not  like  a  true 
man's  talk/ 

'The  very  beasts  themselves.  Little  one,  thou 
w'ouldst  never  believe  that  telling,  but  so  it  was. 
The  beasts  of  the  jungle  bade  me  go,  but  these  four 
followed  me  because  I  was  their  brother.  Then  was 
I  a  herder  of  cattle  among  men,  having  learned  their 
language.  Ho !  ho !  The  herds  paid  toll  to  my 
brothers,  till  a  woman,  an  old  woman,  beloved,  saw 
me  playing  by  night  with  my  brethren  in  the  crops. 
They  said  that  I  was  possessed  of  devils,  and  drove 
me  from  that  village  with  sticks  and  stones,  and  the 
four  came  with  me  by  stealth  and  not  openly.  That 
was  when  I  had  learned  to  eat  cooked  meat  and  to 
talk  boldly.  From  village  to  village  I  went,  heart 
of  my  heart,  a  herder  of  cattle,  a  tender  of  buffaloes, 
a  tracker  of  game,  but  there  was  no  man  that  dared 
lift  a  finger  against  me  twice/  He  stooped  down 
and  patted  one  of  the  heads.  '  Do  thou  also  like  this. 
There  is  neither  hurt  nor  magic  in  them.  See,  they 
know  thee/ 

'  The  woods  are  full  of  all  manner  of  devils,'  said 
the  girl  with  a  shudder. 

'  A  lie,  a  child's  lie,'  Mowgli  returned  confidently. 


IN  THE  KUKH.  259 

'  I  have  lain  out  in  the  dew  under  the  stars  and  in 
the  dark  night,  and  I  know.  The  jungle  is  my 
house.  Shall  a  man  fear  his^  own  roof -beams  or  a 
woman  her  man's  hearth  ?  Stoop  down  and  pat 
them/ 

'  They  are  dogs  and  unclean/  she  murmured, 
bending  forward  with  averted  head. 

'  Having  eaten  the  fruit,  now  we  remember  the 
law ! '  said  Abdul  Gaf ur  bitterly.  '  What  is  the  need 
of  this  waiting,  Sahib.  Kill.' 

'  H'sh,  thou.  Let  us  learn  what  has  happened/ 
said  Gisborne. 

'  That  is  well  done/  said  Mowgli,  slipping  his  arm 
round  the  girl  afresh.  '  Dogs  or  no  dogs,  they  were 
with  me  through  a  thousand  villages.' 

'  Ahi,  and  where  was  thy  heart  then  ?  Through  a 
thousand  villages.  Thou  hast  seen  a  thousand  maids. 
I — that  am — that  am  a  maid  no  more,  have  I  thy 
heart?' 

'  What  shall  I  swear  by  ?  By  Allah,  of  whom 
thou  speakest  ? ' 

'  Nay,  by  the  life  that  is  in  thee,  and  I  am  well 
content.  Where  was  thy  heart  in  those  days  ? ' 

Mowgli  laughed  a  little.  f  In  my  belly,  because 
I  was  young  and  always  hungry.  So  I  learned  to 
track  and  to  hunt,  sending  and  calling  my  brothers 
back  and  forth  as  a  king  calls  his  armies.  Therefore 
I  drove  the  nilghai  for  the  foolish  young  Sahib,  and 
the  big  fat  mare  for  the  big  fat  Sahib,  when  they 


260  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

questioned  my  power.  It  were  as  easy  to  have 
driven  the  men  themselves.  Even  now/  his  voice 
lifted  a  little — 'even.noW  I  know  that  behind  me 
stand  thy  father  and  Gisborne  Sahib.  Nay,  do  not 
run,  for  no  ten  men  dare  move  a  pace  forward.  Re- 
membering that  thy  father  beat  thee  more  than 
once,  shall  I  give  the  word  and  drive  him  again  in 
rings  through  the  rukh  9 '  A  wolf  stood  up,  and 
the  bristles  on  his  neck  lifted. 

Gisborne  felt  Abdul  Gafur  tremble  at  his  side. 
Next,  his  place  was  empty,  and  the  fat  man  was 
skimming  down  the  glade. 

'Remains  only  Gisborne  Sahib/  said  Mowgli, 
still  without  turning;  'but  I  have  eaten  Gisborne 
Sahib's  bread,  and  presently  I  shall  be  in  his  serv- 
ice, and  my  brothers  will  be  his  servants  to  drive 
game  and  carry  the  news.  Hide  thou  in  the  grass/ 

The  girl  fled,  the  tall  grass  closed  behind  her  and 
,the  guardian  wolf  that  followed,  and  Mowgli  turn- 
ing with  his  three  retainers  faced  Gisborne  as  the 
Forest  Officer  came  forward. 

'  That  is  all  the  magic/  he  said,  pointing  to  the 
three.  '  The  fat  Sahib  knew  that  we  who  are  born 
among  wolves  run  on  our  elbows  and  our  knees  for 
a  season.  Feeling  my  arms  and  legs,  he  felt  the 
truth  which  thou  didst  not  know.  Is  it  so  wonder- 
ful, Sahib?' 

*  Indeed  it  is  all  more  wonderful  than  magic. 
These,  then,  drove  the  nilghai  ? ' 


IN   THE  EUKH.  261 

'Ay,  as  they  would  drive  Eblis  if  I  gave  the 
order.  They  are  my  eyes  and  more  to  me.' 

'Look  to  it,  then,  that  Eblis  does  not  carry  a 
double-rifle.  They  have  yet  something  to  learn,  thy 
devils,  for  they  stand  one  behind  the  other,  so  that 
two  shots  would  kill  the  three.' 

'  Ah,  but  they  know  they  will  be  thy  servants  as 
soon  as  I  am  a  forest-guard.' 

'Guard  or  no  guard,  Mowgli,  thou  hast  done  a 
great  shame  to  Abdul  Gaf  ur.  Thou  has  dishonoured 
hfs  house  and  blackened  his  face.' 

'  For  that,  it  was  blackened  when  he  took  thy 
money,  and  made  blacker  still  when  he  whispered  in 
thy  ear  a  little  while  since  to  kill  a  naked  man.  I 
myself  will  talk  to  Abdul  Gafur,  for  I  am  a  man  of 
the  Government  service,  with  a  pension.  He  shall 
make  the  marriage  by  whatsoever  rite  he  will, 
or  he  shall  run  once  more.  I  will  speak  to  him 
in  the  dawn.  For  the  rest,  the  Sahib  has  his 
house  and  this  is  mine.  It  is  time  to  sleep  again, 
Sahib.' 

Mowgli  turned  on  his  heel  and  disappeared  into 
the  grass,  leaving  Gisborne  alone.  The  hint  of  the 
wood-god  was  not  to  be  mistaken,  and  Gisborne  went 
back  to  the  bungalow,  where  Abdul  Gafur,  torn  by 
rage  and  fear,  was  raving  aloud. 

'Peace,  peace,'  said  Gisborne,  shaking  him,  for 
he  looked  as  though  he  were  going  to  have  a  fit. 
'  Muller  Sahib  has  made  the  man  a  forest-guard,  and 


262  MANY  INVENTIONS. 

as  thou  knowest  there  is  a  pension  at  the  end  of  that 
business,  and  it  is  Government  service.' 

'  He  is  an  outcaste — a  mlech — a  dog  among  dogs ; 
an  eater  of  carrion!  What  pension  can  pay  for 
that  ? ' 

'  Allah  knows,  and  thou  hast  heard  that  the  mis- 
chief is  done.  Wouldst  thou  blaze  it  to  all  the  other 
servants  ?  Make  the  shadi  swiftly,  and  the  girl  will 
make  him  a  Mussalman.  He  is  very  comely.  Canst 
thou  wonder  that  after  thy  beatings  she  went  to  him  ? ' 

'Did  he  say  that  he  would  chase  me  with  ftis 
beasts  ? ' 

'  So  it  seemed  to  me.  If  he  be  a  wizard,  he  is  at 
least  a  very  strong  one/ 

Abdul  Gafur  thought  awhile,  and  then  broke 
down  and  howled,  forgetting  that  he  was  a  Mussal- 
man:— 

'  Thou  art  a  Brahmin.  I  am  thy  cow.  Make  thou 
the  matter  plain,  and  save  my  honour  if  it  can  be 
saved ! ' 

A  second  time  then  Gisborne  plunged  into  the 
rukh  and  called  Mowgli.  The  answer  came  from 
high  overhead,  and  in  no  submissive  tones. 

'  Speak  softly/  said  Gisborne,  looking  up.  '  There 
is  yet  time  to  strip  thee  of  thy  place  and  hunt  thee 
with  thy  wolves.  The  girl  goes  back  to  her  father's 
house  to-night.  To-morrow  there  will  be  the  shadi, 
by  the  Mussalman  law,  and  then  thou  canst  take  her 
away.  Bring  her  to  Abdul  Gafur.' 


IN  THE  RUKH.  263 

'  I  hear/  There  was  a  murmur  of  two  voices  con- 
ferring among  the  leaves.  '  Also,  we  will  obey — for 
the  last  time.' 

A  year  later  Muller  and  Gisborne  were  riding 
through  the  rukh  together,  talking  of  their  business. 
They  came  out  among  the  rocks  near  the  Kanye 
stream,  Muller  riding  a  little  in  advance.  Under  the 
shade  of  a  thorn  thicket  sprawled  a  naked  brown 
baby,  and  from  the  brake  immediately  behind  him 
peered  the  head  of  a  gray  wolf.  Gisborne  had  just 
time  to  strike  up  Muller's  rifle,  and  the  bullet  tore 
spattering  through  the  branches  above. 

f  Are  you  mad  ? '  thundered  Muller.    '  Look ! ' 

'I  see/  said  Gisborne  quietly.  'The  mother's 
somewhere  near.  You'll  wake  the  whole  pack,  by 
Jove ! ' 

The  bushes  parted  once  more,  and  a  woman  un- 
veiled snatched  up  the  child. 

"  Who  fired,  Sahib  ? '  she  cried  to  Gisborne. 

'  This  Sahib.  He  had  not  remembered  thy  man's 
people/ 

'  Not  remembered !  But  indeed  it  may  be  so,  for 
we  who  live  with  them  forget  that  they  are  strangers 
at  all.  Mowgli  is  down  the  stream  catching  fish. 
Does  the  Sahib  wish  to  see  him  ?  Come  out,  ye  lack- 
ing manners.  Come  out  of  the  bushes,  and  make 
your  service  to  the  Sahib/ 

Muller's   eyes  grew   rounder  and  rounder.    He 


264  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

swung  liirnself  off  the  plunging  mare  and  dismounted, 
while  the  jungle  gave  up  four  wolves  who  fawned 
round  Gisborne.  The  mother  stood  nursing  her 
child  and  spurning  them  aside  as  they  brushed 
against  her  bare  feet. 

( You  were  quite  right  about  Mowgli,'  said  Gis- 
borne. '  I  meant  to  have  told  you,  but  I've  got  so 
used  to  these  fellows  in  the  last  twelve  months  that 
it  slipped  my  mind.' 

'  Oh,  don't  apologise,'  said  Muller.  '  It's  nothing. 
Gott  in  Himmel !  "  Und  I  work  miracles — und  dey 
come  off  too!"' 


'  BRUGGLESMITH.' 

This  day  the  ship  went  down,  and  all  hands  was  drowned  but  me. 

CLARK  RUSSELL. 

THE  first  officer  of  the  Breslau  asked  me  to  din- 
ner on  board,  before  the  ship  went  round  to  South- 
ampton to  pick  up  her  passengers.  The  Breslau 
was  lying  below  London  Bridge,  her  fore-hatches 
opened  for  cargo,  and  her  deck  littered  with  nuts 
and  bolts,  and  screws  and  chains.  The  Black 
M'Phee  had  been  putting  some  finishing  touches 
to  his  adored  engines,  and  M'Phee  is  the  most 
tidy  of  chief  engineers.  If  the  leg  of  a  cock- 
roach gets  into  one  of  his  slide-valves  the  whole 
ship  knows  it,  and  half  the  ship  has  to  clean  up  the 
mess. 

After  dinner,  which  the  first  officer,  M'Phee,  and 
I  ate  in  one  little  corner  of  the  empty  saloon,  M'Phee 
returned  to  the  engine-room  to  attend  to  some  brass- 
fitters.  The  first  officer  and  I  smoked  on  the  bridge 
and  watched  the  lights  of  the  crowded  shipping  till 
it  was  time  for  me  to  go  home.  It  seemed,  in  the 
pauses  of  our  conversation,  that  I  could  catch  an 


Copyright,  1891,  by  Harper  &  Brothers. 


266  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

echo  of  fearful  bellowings  from  the  engine-room, 
and  the  voice  of  M'Phee  singing  of  home  and  the 
domestic  affections. 

'  M'Phee  has  a  friend  aboard  to-night — a  man 
who  was  a  boiler-maker  at  Greenock  when  M'Phee 
was  a  'prentice,'  said  the  first  officer.  '  I  didn't  ask 
him  to  dine  with  us  because ' 

'  I  see — I  mean  I  hear,'  I  answered.  We  talked 
on  for  a  few  minutes  longer,  and  M'Phee  came 
up  from  the  engine-room  with  his  friend  on  his 
arm. 

'  Let  me  present  ye  to  this  gentleman/  said 
M'Phee.  'He's  a  great  admirer  o'  your  wor-rks. 
He  has  just  hear-rd  o'  them/ 

M'Phee  could  never  pay  a  compliment  prettily. 
The  friend  sat  down  suddenly  on  a  bollard,  saying 
that  M'Phee  had  under-stated  the  truth.  Person- 
ally, he  on  the  bollard  considered  that  Shakespeare 
was  trembling  in  the  balance  solely  on  my  account, 
and  if  the  first  officer  wished  to  dispute  this  he  was 
prepared  to  fight  the  first  officer  then  or  later,  '  as 
per  invoice.'  '  Man,  if  ye  only  knew,'  said  he,  wag- 
ging his  head,  '  the  times  I've  lain  in  my  lonely 
bunk  reading  Vanity  Fair  an'  sobbin' — ay,  weepin' 
bitterly,  at  the  pure  fascination  of  it.' 

He  shed  a  few  tears  for  guarantee  of  good  faith, 
and  the  first  officer  laughed.  M'Phee  resettled  the 
man's  hat,  that  had  tilted  over  one  eyebrow,  and 
said : 


*  BRUGGLESMITH.'  267 

'  That'll  wear  off  in  a  little.  It's  just  the  smell 
o'  the  engine-room,'  said  M'Phee. 

'  I  think  I'll  wear  off  myself,'  I  whispered  to  the 
first  officer.  '  Is  the  dinghy  ready  ? ' 

The  dinghy  was  at  the  gangway,  which  was 
down,  and  the  first  officer  went  forward  to  find  a 
man  to  row  me  to  the  bank.  He  returned  with 
a  very  sleepy  Lascar,  who  knew  the  river. 

'  Are  you  going  ? '  said  the  man  on  the  bollard. 
'  Well,  I'll  just  see  ye  home.  M'Phee,  help  me 
down  the  gangway.  It  has  as  many  ends  as  a  cat- 
o'-nine  tails,  and — losh! — how  innumerable  are  the 
dinghys ! ' 

'  You'd  better  let  him  come  with  you/  said  the 
first  officer.  'Muhammad  Jan,  put  the  drunk 
sahib  ashore  first.  Take  the  sober  sahib  to  the 
next  stairs/ 

I  had  my  foot  in  the  bow  of  the  dinghy,  the  tide 
was  making  up-stream,  when  the  man  cannoned 
against  me,  pushed  the  Lascar  back  on  the  gang- 
way, cast  loose  the  painter,  and  the  dinghy  began  to 
saw,  stern-first,  along  the  side  of  the  Breslau. 

'  We'll  have  no  exter-r-raneous  races  here,'  said 
the  man.  'I've  known  the  Thames  for  thirty 
years ' 

There  was  no  time  for  argument.  We  were 
drifting  under  the  Breslau's  stern,  and  I  knew 
that  her  propeller  was  half  out  of  water,  in  the 

midst  of  an  inky  tangle  of  buoys,  low-lying  haw- 
18 


268  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

sers,  and  moored  ships,  with  the  tide  roaring  about 
them. 

'  What  shall  I  do  ? '  I  shouted  to  the  first  officer. 

*  Find  the  Police  Boat  as  soon  as  you  can,  and  for 
God's  sake  get  way  on  the  dinghy.  Steer  with  the 
oar.  The  rudder's  unshipped  and ' 

I  could  hear  no  more.  The  dinghy  slid  away, 
bumped  on  a  mooring-buoy,  swung  round  and  jigged 
off  irresponsibly  as  I  hunted  for  the  oar.  The  man 
sat  in  the  bow,  his  chin  on  his  hands,  smiling. 

'  Row,  you  ruffian/  I  said.  '  Get  her  out  into  the 
middle  of  the  river ' 

'  It's  a  preevilege  to  gaze  on  the  face  o'  genius. 
Let  me  go  on  thinking.  There  was  "  Little  Bar-rna- 
by  Dorrit "  and  "  The  Mystery  o'  the  Bleak  Druid/' 
I  sailed  in  a  ship  called  the  Druid  once — badly 
found  she  was.  It  all  comes  back  to  me  so  sweet. 
It  all  comes  back  to  me.  Man,  ye  steer  like  a 
genius ! ' 

We  just  bumped  another  mooring-buoy  and 
drifted  on  to  the  bows  of  a  Norwegian  timber-ship — 
I  could  see  the  great  square  holes  on  either  side  of 
the  cutwater.  Then  we  dived  into  a  string  of 
barges  and  scraped  through  them  by  the  paint  on 
our  planks.  It  was  a  consolation  to  think  that  the 
dinghy  was  being  reduced  in  value  at  every  bump, 
but  the  question  before  me  was  when  she  would  be- 
gin to  leak.  The  man  looked  ahead  into  the  pitchy 
darkness  and  whistled. 


'  BKU  GGLESMITII. '  269 

'  Yon's  a  Castle  liner ;  her  ties  are  black.  She's 
swinging  across  stream.  Keep  her  port  light  on  our 
starboard  bow,  and  go  large/  he  said. 

'  How  can  I  keep  anything  anywhere  ?  You're 
sitting  on  the  oars.  Row,  man,  if  you  don't  want  to 
drown/ 

He  took  the  sculls,  saying  sweetly:  'No  harm 
comes  to  a  drunken  man.  That's  why  I  wished  to 
come  with  you.  Man,  ye're  not  fit  to  be  alone  in  a 
boat/ 

He  flirted  the  dinghy  round  the  big  ship,  and  for 
the  next  ten  minutes  I  enjoyed — positively  enjoyed 
— an  exhibition  of  first-class  steering.  We  threaded 
in  and  out  of  the  mercantile  marine  of  Great  Brit- 
ain as  a  ferret  threads  a  rabbit-hole,  and  we,  he  that 
is  to  say,  sang  joyously  to  each  ship  till  men  looked 
over  bulwarks  and  cursed  us.  When  we  came  to 
some  moderately  clear  water  he  gave  the  sculls  to 
me,  and  said : 

*  If  ye  could  row  as  ye  write,  I'd  respect  you  for 
all  your  vices.  Yon's  London  Bridge.  Take  her 
through/ 

We  shot  under  the  dark  ringing  arch,  and  came 
out  the  other  side,  going  up  swiftly  with  the  tide 
chanting  songs  of  victory.  Except  that  I  wished  to 
get  home  before  morning,  I  was  growing  reconciled 
to  the  jaunt.  There  were  one  or  two  stars  visible, 
and  by  keeping  into  the  centre  of  the  stream,  I 
could  not  come  to  any  very  serious  danger. 


270  MANY  INVENTIONS. 

The  man  began  to  sing  loudly : — 

'  The  smartest  clipper  that  you  could  find, 

Yo  ho !    Oho ! 

Was  the  Margaret  Evans  of  the  Black  X  Line 
A  hundred  years  ago ! 

Incorporate  that  in  your  next  book.  Which  is  mar- 
vellous/ Here  he  stood  up  in  the  bows  and  de- 
claimed : — 

'  Ye  Towers  o'  Julia,  London's  lasting  wrong, 

By  mony  a  foul  an'  midnight  murder  fed — 
Sweet  Thames  run  softly  till  I  end  my  song — 
And  yon's  the  grave  as  little  as  my  bed. 

I'm  a  poet  mysel  an'  I  can  feel  for  others.' 

'  Sit  down/  said  I.    *  You'll  have  the  boat  over/ 
'  Ay,  I'm  settin' — settin'  like  a  hen.'    He  plumped 

down  heavily,  and  added,  shaking  his  forefinger  at 

me: — 

'  Lear-rn,  prudent,  cautious  self-control 
Is  wisdom's  root. 

How  did  a  man  o'  your  parts  come  to  be  so  drunk  ? 
Oh,  it's  a  sinfu'  thing,  an'  ye  may  thank  God  on  all 
fours  that  I'm  wi'  you.  What's  yon  boat  ? ' 

We  had  drifted  far  up  the  river,  and  a  boat 
manned  by  four  men,  who  rowed  with  a  soothingly 
regular  stroke,  was  overhauling  us. 

'  It's  the  River  Police,'  I  said,  at  the  top  of  my 
voice. 

'  Oh  ay !  If  your  sin  do  not  find  you  out  on  dry 
land,  it  will  find  you  out  in  the  deep  waters.  Is  it 
like  they'll  give  us  drink  ? ' 


'  BEUGGLESMITH.'  271 

'  Exceedingly  likely.    I'll  hail  them/    I  hailed. 

'  What  are  you  doing  ? '  was  the  answer  from  the 
boat. 

'  It's  the  Breslau's  dinghy  broken  loose/  I  began. 

'  It's  a  vara  drunken  man  broke  loose/  roared  my 
companion, ( and  I'm  taking  him  home  by  water,  for 
he  cannot  stand  on  dry  land/  Here  he  shouted  my 
name  twenty  times  running,  and  I  could  feel  the 
blushes  racing  over  my  body  three  deep. 

'  You'll  be  locked  up  in  ten  minutes,  my  friend/  I 
said, '  and  I  don't  think  you'll  be  bailed  either/ 

'H'sh,  man,  h'sh.  They  think  I'm  your  uncle/ 
He  caught  up  a  scull  and  began  splashing  the  boat 
as  it  ranged  alongside. 

'  You're  a  nice  pair,'  said  the  sergeant  at  last. 

'  I  am  anything  you  please  so  long  as  you  take 
this  fiend  away.  Tow  us  in  to  the  nearest  station, 
and  I'll  make  it  worth  your  while/  I  said. 

'  Corruption — corruption/  roared  the  man,  throw- 
ing himself  flat  in  the  bottom  of  the  boat.  '  Like 
unto  the  worms  that  perish,  so  is  man.  And  all  for 
the  sake  of  a  filthy  half-crown  to  be  arrested  by  the 
River  Police  at  my  time  o'  life ! ' 

'For  pity's  sake,  row/  I  shouted.  'The  man's 
drunk/ 

They  rowed  us  to  a  flat — a  fire  or  a  police-sta- 
tion ;  it  was  too  dark  to  see  which.  I  could  feel  that 
they  regarded  me  in  no  better  light  than  my  com- 
panion, and  I  could  not  explain,  for  I  was  holding 


272  MANY  INVENTIONS. 

the  far  end  of  the  painter,  ten  long  feet  from  all 
respectability. 

We  got  out  of  the  boat,  my  companion  falling 
flat  on  his  wicked  face,  and  the  sergeant  asked  us 
rude  questions  about  the  dinghy.  My  companion 
washed  his  hands  of  all  responsibility.  He  was  an 
old  man ;  he  had  been  lured  into  a  stolen  boat  by  a 
young  man — probably  a  thief — he  had  saved  the 
boat  from  wreck  (this  was  absolutely  true),  and  now 
he  expected  salvage  in  the  shape  of  hot  whisky  and 
water.  The  sergeant  turned  to  me.  Fortunately  I 
was  in  evening  dress,  and  had  a  card  to  show. 
More  fortunately  still,  the  sergeant  happened  to 
know  the  Breslau  and  M'Phee.  He  promised  to 
send  the  dinghy  down  next  tide,  and  was  not  beyond 
accepting  my  thanks,  in  silver. 

As  this  was  satisfactorily  arranged,  I  heard  my 
companion  say  angrily  to  a  constable, '  If  you  will 
not  give  it  to  a  dry  man,  ye  maun  to  a  drookit/ 
Then  he  walked  deliberately  off  the  edge  of  the  flat 
into  the  water.  Somebody  stuck  a  boat-hook  into 
his  clothes  and  hauled  him  out. 

'  Now,'  said  he  triumphantly,  'under  the  rules  o' 
the  R-royal  Humane  Society,  ye  must  give  me  hot 
whisky  and  water.  Do  not  put  temptation  before 
the  laddie.  He's  my  nephew  an'  a  good  boy  i'  the 
main.  Tho'  why  he  should  masquerade  as  Mister 
Thackeray  on  the  high  seas  is  beyond  my  compre- 
hension. Oh  the  vanity  o'  youth !  M'Phee  told 


*  BEUGGLESMITH.'  273 

me  ye  were  as  vain  as  a  peacock.  I  mind  that 
now/ 

'  You  had  better  give  him  something  to  drink 
and  wrap  him  up  for  the  night.  I  don't  know 
who  he  is/  I  said  desperately,  and  when  the  man 
had  settled  down  to  a  drink  supplied  on  my  repre- 
sentations, I  escaped  and  found  that  I  was  near  a 
bridge. 

I  went  towards  Fleet  Street,  intending  to  take  a 
hansom  and  go  home.  After  the  first  feeling  of  in- 
dignation died  out,  the  absurdity  of  the  experience 
struck  me  fully  and  I  began  to  laugh  aloud  in  the 
empty  streets,  to  the  scandal  of  a  policeman.  The 
more  I  reflected  the  more  heartily  I  laughed,  till 
my  mirth  was  quenched  by  a  hand  on  my  shoulder, 
and  turning  I  saw  him  who  should  have  been  in 
bed  at  the  river  police-station.  He  was  damp  all 
over;  his  wet  silk  hat  rode  far  at  the  back  of  his 
head,  and  round  his  shoulders  hung  a  striped  yellow 
blanket,  evidently  the  property  of  the  State. 

'The  crackling  o'  thorns  under  a  pot/  said  he, 
solemnly.  '  Laddie,  have  ye  not  thought  o'  the  sin 
of  idle  laughter  ?  My  heart  misgave  me  that  ever 
ye'd  get  home,  an'  I've  just  come  to  convoy  you  a 
piece.  They're  sore  uneducate  down  there  by  the 
river.  They  would  na  listen  to  me  when  I  talked  o' 
your  wor-rks,  so  I  e'en  left  them.  Cast  the  blanket 
about  you,  laddie.  It's  fine  and  cold/ 

I  groaned  inwardly.     Providence  evidently  in- 


274  MANY  INVENTIONS. 

tended  that  I  should  frolic  through  eternity  with 
M'Phee's  infamous  acquaintance. 

'  Go  away/  I  said ;  '  go  home,  or  I'll  give  you  in 
charge.' 

He  leaned  against  a  lamp-post  and  laid  his  finger 
to  his  nose — his  dishonourable,  carnelian  neb. 

'  I  mind  now  that  M'Phee  told  me  ye  were  vainer 
than  a  peacock,  an'  your  castin'  me  adrift  in  a  boat 
shows  ye  were  drunker  than  an  owl.  A  good  name 
is  as  a  savoury  bakemeat.  I  ha'  nane/  He  smacked 
his  lips  joyously. 

'  Well,  I  know  that/  I  said. 

'Ay,  but  ye  have.  I  mind  now  that  M'Phee 
spoke  o'  your  reputation  that  you're  so  proud  of. 
Laddie,  if  ye  gie  me  in  charge — I'm  old  enough  to  be 
your  father — I'll  bla-ast  your  reputation  as  far  as 
my  voice  can  carry ;  for  I'll  call  you  by  name  till 
the  cows  come  hame.  It's  no  jestin'  matter  to  be  a 
friend  to  me.  If  you  discard  my  friendship,  ye 
must  come  to  Vine  Street  wi'  me  for  stealin'  the 
Breslau's  dinghy/ 

Then  he  sang  at  the  top  of  his  voice : — 

'  In  the  mor-rnin' 

I'  the  mor-rnin'  by  the  black  van — 
We'll  toodle  up  to  Vine  Street  i'  the  mornin' ! 

Yon's  my  own  composeetion,  but  I'm  not  vain. 
We'll  go  home  together,  laddie,  we'll  go  home  to- 
gether.' And  he  sang  'Auld  Lang  Syne'  to  show 
that  he  meant  it. 


'  BRUGGLESMITH.'  275 

A  policeman  suggested  that  we  liad  better  move 
on,  and  we  moved  on  to  the  Law  Courts  near  St. 
Clement  Danes.  My  companion  was  quieter  now, 
and  his  speech  which  up  till  that  time  had  been 
distinct — it  was  a  marvel  to  see  how  in  his  condition 
he  could  talk  dialect — began  to  slur  and  slide  and 
slummock.  He  bade  me  observe  the  architecture  of 
the  Law  Courts  and  linked  himself  lovingly  to  my 
arm.  Then  he  saw  a  policeman,  and  before  I  could 
shake  him  off,  whirled  me  up  to  the  man  singing : — 

'  Every  member  of  the  Force, 
Has  a  watch  and  chain  of  course — ' 

and  threw  his  dripping  blanket  over  the  helmet  of 
the  Law.  In  any  other  country  in  the  world  we 
should  have  run  an  exceedingly  good  chance  of 
being  shot,  or  dirked,  or  clubbed — and  clubbing  is 
worse  than  being  shot.  But  I  reflected  in  that  wet- 
cloth  tangle  that  this  was  England,  where  the  police 
are  made  to  be  banged  and  battered  and  bruised, 
that  they  may  the  better  endure  a  police-court  repri- 
mand next  morning.  We  three  fell  in  a  tangle,  he 
calling  on  me  by  name— that  was  the  tingling  hor- 
ror of  it — to  sit  on  the  policeman's  head  and  cut  the 
traces.  I  wriggled  clear  first  and  shouted  to  the 
policeman  to  kill  the  blanket-man. 

Naturally  the  policeman  answered:  'You're  as 
bad  as  'im/  and  chased  me,  as  the  smaller  man,  round 
St.  Clement  Danes  into  Holywell  Street,  where  I  ran 


276  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

into  the  arms  of  another  policeman.  That  flight 
could  not  have  lasted  more  than  a  minute  and  a 
half,  but  it  seemed  to  me  as  long  and  as  wearisome 
as  the  foot-bound  flight  of  a  nightmare.  I  had 
leisure  to  think  of  a  thousand  things  as  I  ran,  but 
most  I  thought  of  the  great  and  god-like  man  who 
held  a  sitting  in  the  north  gallery  of  St.  Clement 
Danes  a  hundred  years  ago.  I  know  that  he  at  least 
would  have  felt  for  me.  So  occupied  was  I  with 
these  considerations,  that  when  the  other  policeman 
hugged  me  to  his  bosom  and  said :  '  What  are  you 
tryin'  to  do  ? '  I  answered  with  exquisite  politeness : 
'  Sir,  let  us  take  a  walk  down  Fleet  Street.'  '  Bow 
Street'll  do  your  business,  I  think/  was  the  answer, 
and  for  a  moment  I  thought  so  too,  till  it  seemed  I 
might  wriggle  out  of  it.  Then  there  was  a  hideous 
scene,  and  it  was  complicated  by  my  companion  hur- 
rying up  with  the  blanket  and  telling  me — always 
by  name — that  he  would  rescue  me  or  perish  in  the 
attempt. 

'Knock  him  down/  I  pleaded.  'Club  his  head 
open  first  and  I'll  explain  afterwards.' 

The  first  policeman,  the  one  who  had  been  out- 
raged, drew  his  truncheon  and  cut  my  companion's 
head.  The  high  silk  hat  crackled  and  the  owner 
dropped  like  a  log. 

'  Now  you've  done  it/  I  said.  '  You've  probably 
killed  him/ 

Holywell    Street  never  goes  to  bed.      A  small 


'  BRTJGGLESMITH.'  277 

crowd  gathered  on  the  spot,  and  some  one  of  Ger- 
man extraction  cried :  '  You  haf  killed  the  man/ 

Another  cried:  'Take  his  bloomin'  number.  I 
saw  him  strook  cruel  'ard.  Yah ! ' 

Now  the  street  was  empty  when  the  trouble  be- 
gan, and,  saving  the  two  policemen  and  myself,  no 
one  had  seen  the  blow.  I  said,  therefore,  in  a  loud 
and  cheerful  voice : — 

'  The  man's  a  friend  of  mine.  He's  fallen  down 
in  a  fit.  Bobby,  will  you  bring  the  ambulance  ? ' 
Under  my  breath  I  added :  '  It's  five  shillings  apiece, 
and  the  man  didn't  hit  you.' 

'  No,  but  'im  and  you  tried  to  scrob  me/  said  the 
policeman. 

This  was  not  a  thing  to  argue  about. 

'  Is  Dempsey  on  duty  at  Charing  Cross  ? '  I  said. 

'  Wot  d'you  know  of  Dempsey,  you  bloomin'  gar- 
rotter  ? '  said  the  policeman. 

'  If  Dempsey's  there,  he  knows  me.  Get  the 
ambulance  quick,  and  I'll  take  him  to  Charing 
Cross.' 

'  You're  coming  to  Bow  Street,  you  are/  said  the 
policeman  crisply. 

'  The  man's  dying ' — he  lay  groaning  on  the  pave- 
ment— '  get  the  ambulance/  said  I. 

There  is  an  ambulance  at  the  back  of  St.  Clement 
Danes,  whereof  I  know  more  than  most  people.  The 
policeman  seemed  to  possess  the  keys  of  the  box  in 
which  it  lived.  We  trundled  it  out — it  was  a  three- 


278  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

wheeled  affair  with,  a  hood — and  we  bundled  the 
body  of  the  man  upon  it. 

A  body  in  an  ambulance  looks  very  extremely 
dead.  The  policeman  softened  at  the  sight  of  the 
stiff  boot-heels. 

'  Now,  then/  said  they,  and  I  fancied  that  they 
still  meant  Bow  Street. 

'  Let  me  see  Dempsey  for  three  minutes  if  he's 
on  duty,'  I  answered. 

'  Very  good.    He  is/ 

Then  I  knew  that  all  would  be  well,  but  before 
we  started  I  put  my  head  under  the  ambulance-hood 
to  see  if  the  man  were  alive.  A  guarded  whisper 
caught  my  ear. 

'Laddie,  you  maun  pay  me  for  a  new  hat. 
They've  broken  it.  Dinna  desert  me  now,  laddie. 
I'm  o'er  old  to  go  to  Bow  Street  in  my  gray  hairs 
for  a  fault  of  yours.  Laddie,  dinna  desert  me.' 

'  You'll  be  lucky  if  you  get  off  under  seven  years/ 
I  said  to  the  policeman. 

Moved  by  a  very  lively  fear  of  having  exceeded 
their  duty,  the  two  policeman  left  their  beats,  and 
the  mournful  procession  wound  down  the  empty 
Strand.  Once  west  of  the  Adelphi,  I  knew  I  should 
be  in  my  own  country ;  and  the  policemen  had  rea- 
son to  know  that  too,  for  as  I  was  pacing  proudly 
a  little  ahead  of  the  catafalque,  another  policeman 
said  '  Good  night,  sir/  to  me  as  he  passed. 

*  Now,  you  see/  I  said,  with  condescension.    '  I 


'  BKU  GGLESMITII. '  279 

wouldn't  be  in  your  shoes  for  something.  On  my 
word,  I've  a  great  mind  to  march  you  two  down  to 
Scotland  Yard/ 

*  If  the  gentleman's  a  friend  o'  yours,  per'aps — 
said  the  policeman  who  had  given  the  blow,  and  was 
reflecting  on  the  consequences. 

*  Perhaps  you'd  like  me  to  go  away  and  say  noth- 
ing about  it/  I  said.    Then  there  hove  into  view  the 
figure  of  Constable  Dempsey,  glittering  in  his  oil- 
skins, and  an  angel  of  light  to  me.    I  had  known 
him  for  months  ;  he  was  an  esteemed  friend  of  mine, 
and  we  used  to  talk  together  in  the  early  mornings. 
The  fool  seeks  to  ingratiate  himself  with  Princes 
and  Ministers ;  and  courts  and  cabinets  leave  him  to 
perish  miserably.    The  wise  man  makes  allies  among 
the  police  and  the  hansoms,  so  that  his  friends  spring 
up  from  the  round-house  and  the  cab-rank,  and  even 
his  offences  become  triumphal  processions. 

*  Dempsey,'  said  I,  '  have    the    Police   been  on 
strike  again  ?     They've  put  some  things  on  duty 
at  St.  Clement  Danes  that  want  to  take  me  to  Bow 
Street  for  garrotting.' 

<  Lor,  sir ! '  said  Dempsey  indignantly. 

'  Tell  them  I'm  not  a  garrotter,  nor  a  thief.  It's 
simply  disgraceful  that  a  gentleman  can't  walk 
down  the  Strand  without  being  man-handled  by 
these  roughs.  One  of  them  has  done  his  best  to  kill 
my  friend  here;  and  I'm  taking  the  body  home. 
Speak  for  me,  Dempsey.' 


280  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

There  was  no  time  for  the  much  misrepresented 
policemen  to  say  a  word.  Dempsey  spoke  to  them 
in  language  calculated  to  alarm.  They  tried  to 
explain,  but  Dempsey  launched  into  a  glowing  cata- 
logue of  my  virtues,  as  noted  by  him  in  the  early 
hours.  '  And/  he  concluded  vehemently, '  'e  writes 
for  the  papers,  too.  How'd  you  like  to  be  written 
for  in  the  papers — in  verse,  too,  which  is  'is  'abit. 
You  leave  'im  alone.  'Im  an'  me  have  been  friends 
for  months.' 

'  What  about  the  dead  man  ? '  said  the  policeman 
who  had  not  given  the  blow. 

*  I'll  tell  you,'  I  said  relenting,  and  to  the  three 
policemen  under  the  lights  of  Charing  Cross  assem- 
bled, I  recounted  faithfully  and  at  length  the  adven- 
tures of  the  night,  beginning  with  the  Breslau  and 
ending  at  St.  Clement  Danes.  I  described  the  sinful 
old  ruffian  in  the  ambulance  in  terms  that  made  him 
wriggle  where  he  lay,  and  never  since  the  Metropoli- 
tan Police  was  founded  did  three  policemen  laugh 
as  those  three  laughed.  The  Strand  echoed  to  it, 
and  the  unclean  birds  of  the  night  stood  and  won- 
dered. 

'  Oh  lor' ! '  said  Dempsey  wiping  his  eyes, '  I'd  ha' 
given  anything  to  see  that  old  man  runnin'  about 
with  a  wet  blanket  an'  all !  Excuse  me,  sir,  but  you 
ought  to  get  took  up  every  night  for  to  make  us 
'appy.'  He  dissolved  into  fresh  guffaws. 

There  was  a  clinking  of  silver  and  the  two  po- 


'BEUGGLESMITH.'  281 

licemen  of  St.  Clement  Danes  hurried  back  to  their 
beats,  laughing  as  they  ran. 

(  Take  'im  to  Charing  Cross/  said  Dempsey  be- 
tween shouts.  '  They'll  send  the  ambulance  back  in 
the  morning.' 

'  Laddie,  ye've  misca'ed  me  shameful  names,  but 
I'm  o'er  old  to  go  to  a  hospital.  Dinna  desert  me, 
laddie,  tak  me  home  to  my  wife/  said  the  voice  in 
the  ambulance. 

'  He's  none  so  bad.  'Is  wife'll  comb  'is  hair  for 
'im  proper/  said  Dempsey,  who  was  a  married  man. 

'  Where  d'you  live  ? '  I  demanded. 

'  Brugglesmith/  was  the  answer. 

'  What's  that  ? '  I  said  to  Dempsey,  more  skilled 
than  I  in  the  portmanteau  words  of  early  dawn. 

'  Brook  Green,  'Ammersmith/  Dempsey  trans- 
lated promptly. 

'  Of  course/  I  said.  '  That's  just  the  sort  of  place 
he  would  choose  to  live  in.  I  only  wonder  it  was 
not  Kew.' 

'  Are  you  going  to  wheel  him  'ome,  sir  ? '  said 
Dempsey. 

'  I'd  wheel  him  home  if  he  lived  in Paradise. 

He's  not  going  to  get  out  of  this  ambulance  while 
I'm  here.  He'd  drag  me  into  a  murder  for  tup- 
pence.' 

'  Then  strap  'im  up  an'  make  sure/  said  Demp- 
sey, and  he  deftly  buckled  two  straps,  that  hung  by 
the  side  of  the  ambulance,  over  the  man's  body. 


282  MANY  INVENTIONS. 

Brugglesmith — I  know  not  his  other  name — was 
sleeping  deeply.  He  even  smiled  in  his  sleep. 

'  That's  all  right/  said  Dempsey,  and  I  moved  off, 
wheeling  my  devil's  perambulator  before  me.  Tra- 
falgar Square  was  empty  except  for  the  few  that 
slept  in  the  open.  One  of  these  wretches  ranged 
alongside  and  begged  for  money,  asserting  that  he 
had  once  been  a  gentleman. 

'  So  have  I/  I  said.  '  That  was  long  ago.  I'll 
give  you  a  shilling  if  you'll  help  me  to  push  this 
thing.' 

'  Is  it  a  murder  ? '  said  the  vagabond,  shrinking 
back.  '  I've  not  got  to  that  yet.' 

'  No.    It's  going  to  be  one/  I  answered.    '  I  have.' 

The  man  slunk  back  into  the  darkness  and  I 
pressed  on,  through  Cockspur  Street,  and  up  to  Pic- 
cadilly Circus,  wondering  what  I  should  do  with  my 
treasure.  All  London  was  asleep,  and  I  had  only 
this  drunken  carcase  to  bear  me  company.  It  was 
silent — silent  as  chaste  Piccadilly.  A  young  man  of 
my  acquaintance  came  out  of  a  pink-brick  club  as  I 
passed.  A  faded  carnation  drooped  from  his  button- 
hole ;  he  had  been  playing  cards,  and  was  walking 
home  before  the  dawn,  when  he  overtook  me. 

'  What  are  you  doing  ? '  he  said. 

I  was  far  beyond  any  feeling  of  shame.  '  It's  for 
a  bet/  said  I.  '  Come  and  help.' 

'  Laddie,  who's  yon  ? '  said  the  voice  beneath  tho 
hood. 


'BKUGGLESMITH.'  283 

*  Good  Lord ! '  said  the  young  man,  leaping  across 
the  pavement.  Perhaps  card-losses  had  told  on  his 
nerves.  Mine  were  steel  that  night. 

'  The  Lord,  the  Lord  ? '  the  passionless,  incurious 
voice  went  on.  'Dinna  be  profane,  laddie.  He'll 
come  in  His  ain  good  time.' 

The  young  man  looked  at  me  with  horror. 

'  It's  all  part  of  the  bet,'  I  answered.  '  Do  come 
and  push.' 

'  W — where  are  you  going  to  ? '  said  he. 

' Brugglesmith,'  said  the  voice  within.  'Laddie, 
d'ye  ken  iny  wife  ? ' 

'  No,'  said  I. 

'  Well,  she's  just  a  tremenjus  wumman.  Laddie, 
I  want  a  drink.  Knock  at  one  o'  these  braw  houses, 
laddie,  an' — an' — ye  may  kiss  the  girl  for  your  pains.' 

'  Lie  still,  or  I'll  gag  you,'  I  said,  savagely. 

The  young  man  with  the  carnation  crossed  to 
the  other  side  of  Piccadilly,  and  hailed  the  only 
hansom  visible  for  miles.  What  he  thought  I  cannot 
tell.  Later  I  was  told. 

I  pressed  on — wheeling,  eternally  wheeling — to 
Brook  Green,  Hammersmith.  There  I  would  aban- 
don Brugglesmith  to  the  gods  of  that  desolate  land. 
We  had  been  through  so  much  together  that  I  could 
not  leave  him  bound  in  the  street.  Besides,  he 
would  call  after  me,  and  oh !  it  is  a  shameful  thing 
to  hear  one's  name  ringing  down  the  emptiness  of 

London  in  the  dawn. 
19 


284  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

So  I  went  on,  past  Apsley  House,  even  to  the 
coffee-stall,  but  there  was  no  coffee  for  Brug- 
glesmith.  And  into  Knightsbridge — respectable 
Knightsbridge — I  wheeled  my  burden,  the  body  of 
Brugglesmith. 

'  Laddie,  what  are  ye  going  to  do  to  me  ? '  he  said 
when  opposite  the  barracks. 

'  Kill  you/  I  said  briefly,  '  or  hand  you  over  to 
your  wife.  Be  quiet.' 

He  would  not  obey.  He  talked  incessantly — 
sliding  in  one  sentence  from  clear  cut  dialect  to 
wild  and  drunken  jumble.  At  the  Albert  Hall  he 
said  that  I  was  the  '  Hattle  Gardle  buggle,'  which  I 
apprehend  is  the  Hatton  Garden  burglar.  At  Ken- 
sington High  Street  he  loved  me  as  a  son,  but  when 
my  weary  legs  came  to  the  Addison  Road  Bridge  he 
implored  me  with  tears  to  unloose  the  straps  and  to 
fight  against  the  sin  of  vanity.  No  man  molested 
us.  It  was  as  though  a  bar  had  been  set  between 
myself  and  all  humanity  till  I  had  cleared  my  ac- 
count with  Brugglesmith.  The  glimmering  of  light 
grew  in  the  sky;  the  cloudy  brown  of  the  wood 
pavement  turned  to  heather-purple;  I  made  no 
doubt  that  I  should  be  allowed  vengeance  on  Brug- 
glesmith ere  the  evening. 

At  Hammersmith  the  heavens  were  steel-gray, 
and  the  day  came  weeping.  All  the  tides  of  the 
sadness  of  an  unprofitable  dawning  poured  into  the 
soul  of  Brugglesmith.  He  wept  bitterly,  because 


'BRUGGLESMITH.'  285 

the  puddles  looked  cold  and  houseless.  I  entered  a 
half- waked  public-house — in  evening  dress  and  an 
ulster,  I  marched  to  the  bar — and  got  him  whisky 
on  condition  that  he  should  cease  kicking  at  the 
canvas  of  the  ambulance.  Then  he  wept  more  bit- 
terly, for  that  he  had  ever  been  associated  with  me, 
and  so  seduced  into  stealing  the  Breslau's  dinghy. 

The  day  was  white  and  wan  when  I  reached  my 
long  journey's  end,  and,  putting  back  the  hood,  bade 
Brugglcsmith  declare  where  he  lived.  His  eyes 
wandered  disconsolately  round  the  red  and  gray 
houses  till  they  fell  on  a  villa  in  whose  garden  stood 
a  staggering  board  with  the  legend  'To  Let.'  It 
needed  only  this  to  break  him  down  utterly,  and 
with  that  breakage  fled  his  fine  fluency  in  his  gut- 
tural northern  tongue ;  for  liquor  levels  all. 

'Olely  lil  while,'  he  sobbed.  'Olely  HI  while. 
Home — falmy — besht  of  falmies — wife,  too — you  dole 
know  my  wife!  Left  them  all  a  lil  while  ago. 
Now  everything's  sold — all  sold.  Wife — falmy — all 
sold.  Lemmegellup ! ' 

I  unbuckled  the  straps  cautiously.  Bruggle- 
smith  rolled  off  his  resting-place  and  staggered  to 
the  house. 

'  Wattle  I  do  ? '  he  said. 

Then  I  understood  the  baser  depths  in  the  mind 
of  Mephistopheles. 

'  Ring,'  I  said ;  '  perhaps  they  are  in  the  attic  or 
the  cellar.' 


286  MANY  INVENTIONS. 

'  You  do'  know  my  wife.  She  shleeps  on  sof ul  in 
the  dorlin'  room  waitin'  meculhome.  You  do'  know 
my  wife/ 

He  took  off  his  boots,  covered  them  with  his  tall 
hat,  and  craftily  as  a  Red  Indian  picked  his  way  up 
the  garden  path  and  smote  the  bell  marked  'Vis- 
itors '  a  severe  blow  with  his  clenched  fist. 

( Bell  sole  too.  Sole  electick  bell !  Wassor  bell 
this  ?  I  can't  riggle  bell,'  he  moaned  despairingly. 

'  You  pull  it — pull  it  hard,'  I  repeated,  keeping  a 
wary  eye  down  the  road.  Vengeance  was  coming 
and  I  desired  no  witnesses. 

'  Yes,  I'll  pull  it  hard.'  He  slapped  his  forehead 
with  inspiration.  '  I'll  pull  it  out/ 

Leaning  back  he  grasped  the  knob  with  both 
hands  and  pulled.  A  wild  ringing  in  the  kitchen 
was  his  answer.  Spitting  on  his  hands  he  pulled 
with  renewed  strength,  and  shouted  for  his  wife. 
Then  he  bent  his  ear  to  the  knob,  shook  his  head, 
drew  out  an  enormous  yellow  and  red  handkerchief, 
tied  it  round  the  knob,  turned  his  back  to  the  door, 
and  pulled  over  his  shoulder. 

Either  the  handkerchief  or  the  wire,  it  seemed  to 
me,  was  bound  to  give  way.  But  I  had  forgotten 
the  bell.  Something  cracked  in  the  kitchen,  and 
Brugglesmith  moved  slowly  down  the  doorsteps, 
pulling  valiantly.  Three  feet  of  wire  followed  him. 

'  Pull,  oh  pull ! '  I  cried.    '  It's  coming  now ! ' 

'  Qui'  ri','  he  said.    '  J'ZZ  riggle  bell/ 


'  BKUGGLESMITH.'  287 

He  bowed  forward,  the  wire  creaking  and  strain- 
ing behind  him,  the  bell-knob  clasped  to  his  bosom, 
and  from  the  noises  within  I  fancied  the  bell  was 
taking  away  with  it  half  the  wood-work  of  the 
kitchen  and  all  the  basement  banisters  as  it  came  up. 

'  Get  a  purchase  on  her/  I  shouted,  and  he  spun 
round,  lapping  that  good  copper  wire  about  him.  I 
opened  the  garden  gate  politely,  and  he  passed  out, 
spinning  his  own  cocoon.  Still  the  bell  came  up, 
hand  over  hand,  and  still  the  wire  held  fast.  He 
was  in  the  middle  of  the  road  now,  whirling  like  an 
impaled  cockchafer,  and  shouting  madly  for  his  wife 
and  family.  There  he  met  with  the  ambulance, 
the  bell  within  the  house  gave  one  last  peal,  and 
bounded  from  the  far  end  of  the  hall  to  the  inner 
side  of  the  hall  door,  when  it  stayed  fast.  So  did 
not  my  friend  Brugglesmith.  He  fell  upon  his  face 
embracing  the  ambulance  as  he  did  so,  and  the  two 
turned  over  together  in  the  toils  of  the  never-suffi- 
ciently-to-be-advertised  copper  wire.. 

'  Laddie/  he  gasped,  his  speech  returning,  '  have 
I  a  legal  remedy  ? ' 

'  I  will  go  and  look  for  one/  I  said,  and,  depart- 
ing, found  two  policemen,  whom  I  told  that  day- 
light had  surprised  a  burglar  in  Brook  Green 
while  he  was  stealing  lead  from  an  empty  house. 
Perhaps  they  had  better  take  care  of  that  bootless 
thief.  He  seemed  to  be  in  difficulties. 

I  led  the  way  to  the  spot,  and  behold !  in  the 


288  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

splendour  of  the  dawning,  the  ambulance,  wheels 
uppermost,  was  walking  down  the  muddy  road  on 
two  stockinged  feet — was  shuffling  to  and  fro  in 
a  quarter  of  a  circle  whose  radius  was  copper 
wire,  and  whose  centre  was  the  bell-plate  of  the 
empty  house. 

Next  to  the  amazing  ingenuity  with  which 
Brugglesmith  had  contrived  to  lash  himself  under 
the  ambulance,  the  thing  that  appeared  to  im- 
press the  constables  most  was  the  fact  of  the  St. 
Clement  Danes  ambulance  being  at  Brook  Green, 
Hammersmith. 

They  even  asked  me,  of  all  people  in  the  world, 
whether  I  knew  anything  about  it. 

They  extricated  him ;  not  without  pain  and  dirt. 
He  explained  that  he  was  repelling  boarding-attacks 
by  a  '  Hattle  Gardle  buggle '  who  had  sold  his  house, 
wife,  and  family.  As  to  the  bell-wire,  he  offered  no 
explanation,  and  was  borne  off  shoulder-high  be- 
tween the  two  policemen.  Though  his  feet  were 
not  within  six  inches  of  the  ground,  they  paddled 
swiftly,  and  I  saw  that  in  his  magnificent  mind  he 
was  running — furiously  running. 

Sometimes  I  have  wondered  whether  he  wished 
to  find  me. 


'LOVE-O'-  WOMEN.' 

A  lamentable  tale  of  things 
Done  long  ago,  and  ill  done. 

THE  horror,  the  confusion,  and  the  separation  of 
the  murderer  from  his  comrades  were  all  over  before 
I  came.  There  remained  only  on  the  barrack-square 
the  blood  of  man  calling  from  the  ground.  The  hot 
sun  had  dried  it  to  a  dusky  gold-beater-skin  film, 
cracked  lozenge-wise  by  the  heat,  and  as  the  wind 
rose  each  lozenge,  rising  a  little,  curled  up  at  the 
edges  as  if  it  were  a  dumb  tongue.  Then  a  heavier 
gust  blew  all  away  down  wind  in  grains  of  dark 
coloured  dust.  It  was  too  hot  to  stand  in  the  sun- 
shine before  breakfast.  The  men  were  all  in  bar- 
racks talking  the  matter  over.  A  knot  of  soldiers' 
wives  stood  by  one  of  the  entrances  to  the  married 
quarters,  while  inside  a  woman  shrieked  and  raved 
with  wicked  filthy  words. 

A  quiet  and  well-conducted  sergeant  had  shot 
down  in  broad  daylight  just  after  early  parade  one 
of  his  own  corporals,  had  then  returned  to  barracks 

Copyright,  1893,  by  D.  Appleton  &  Co. 


290  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

and  sat  on  a  cot  till  the  guard  came  for  him.  He 
would,  therefore,  in  due  time  be  handed  over  to  the 
High  Court  for  trial.  Further,  but  this  he  could 
hardly  have  considered  in  his  scheme  of  revenge, 
he  would  horribly  upset  my  work ;  for  the  report- 
ing of  the  trial  would  fall  on  me  without  a  relief. 
What  that  trial  would  be  like  I  knew  even  to  weari- 
ness. There  would  be  the  rifle  carefully  uncleaned, 
with  the  fouling  marks  about,  breech  and  muzzle, 
to  be  sworn  to  by  half  a  dozen  superfluous  privates ; 
there  would  be  heat,  reeking  heat,  till  the  wet  pencil 
slipped  sideways  between  the  fingers ;  and  the  pun- 
kah would  swish  and  the  pleaders  would  jabber  in 
the  verandas,  and  his  Commanding  Officer  would 
put  in  certificates  of  the  prisoner's  moral  character, 
while  the  jury  would  pant  and  the  summer  uni- 
forms of  the  witnesses  would  smell  of  dye  and 
soaps  ;  and  some  abject  barrack-sweeper  would  lose 
his  head  in  cross-examination,  and  the  young  bar- 
rister who  always  defended  soldiers'  cases  for  the 
credit  that  they  never  brought  him,  would  say  and 
do  wonderful  things,  and  would  then  quarrel  with 
me  because  I  had  not  reported  him  correctly.  At 
the  last,  for  he  surely  would  not  be  hanged,  I  might 
meet  the  prisoner  again,  ruling  blank  account-forms 
in  the  Central  Jail,  and  cheer  him  with  the  hope  of 
a  wardership  in  the  Andamans. 

The  Indian  Penal  Code  and  its  interpreters  do 
not  treat  murder,  under  any  provocation  whatever, 


'LOVE-O'-  WOMEN.'  291 

in  a  spirit  of  jest.  Sergeant  Raines  would  be  very 
lucky  indeed  if  -he  got  off  with  seven  years,  I 
thought.  He  had  slept  the  night  upon  his  wrongs, 
and  had  killed  his  man  at  twenty  yards  before 
any  talk  was  possible.  That  much  I  knew.  Un- 
less, therefore,  the  case  was  doctored  a  little,  seven 
years  would  be  his  least ;  and  I  fancied  it  was  ex- 
ceedingly well  for  Sergeant  Raines  that  he  had 
been  liked  by  his  Company. 

That  same  evening — no  day  is  so  long  as  the  day 
of  a  murder — I  met  Ortheris  with  the  dogs,  and  he 
plunged  defiantly  into  the  middle  of  the  matter. 
'  I'll  be  one  o'  the  witnesses/  said  he.  '  I  was  in  the 
veranda  when  Mackie  came  along.  JE  come  from 
Mrs.  Raines's  quarters.  Quigley,  Parsons,  an'  Trot, 
they  was  in  the  inside  veranda,  so  they  couldn't  'ave 
'eard  nothing.  Sergeant  Raines  was  in  the  veranda 
talkin*  to  me,  an'  Mackie  'e  come  along  acrost  the 
square  an'  'e  sez,  "  Well,"  sez  'e,  "  'ave  they  pushed 
your  'elmet  off  yet,  Sergeant  ? "  'e  sez.  An'  at  that 
Raines  'e  catches  'is  breath  an'  'e  sez,  "  My  Gawd,  I 
can't  stand  this ! "  sez  'e,  an'  'e  picks  lip  my  rifle  an' 
shoots  Mackie.  See  ? ' 

'  But  what  were  you  doing  with  your  rifle  in  the 
outer  veranda  an  hour  after  parade  ? ' 

'  Cleanin'  'er,'  said  Ortheris,  with  the  sullen  brassy 
stare  that  always  went  with  his  choice  lies. 

He  might  as  well  have  said  that  he  was  dancing 
naked,  for  at  no  time  did  his  rifle  need  hand  or  rag 


292  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

on  her  twenty  minutes  after  parade.  Still  the  High 
Court  would  not  know  his  routine. 

'  Are  you  going  to  stick  to  that — on  the  Book  ? ' 
I  asked. 

'  Yes.    Like  a  bloomin'  leech.' 

'  All  right,  I  don't  want  to  know  any  more.  Only 
remember  that  Quigley,  Parsons,  and  Trot  couldn't 
have  been  where  you  say  without  hearing  something ; 
and  there's  nearly  certain  to  be  a  barrack-sweeper 
who  was  knocking  about  the  square  at  the  time. 
There  always  is.' 

*  'Twasn't  the  sweeper.  It  was  the  beastie.  'E's 
all  right.' 

Then  I  knew  that  there  was  going  to  be  some 
spirited  doctoring,  and  I  felt  sorry  for  the  Govern- 
ment Advocate  who  would  conduct  the  prosecution. 

When  the  trial  came  on  I  pitied  him  more,  for 
he  was  always  quick  to  lose  his  temper,  and  made  a 
personal  matter  of  each  lost  cause.  Raines's  young 
barrister  had  for  once  put  aside  his  unslaked  and 
Welling  passion  for  alibis  and  insanity,  had  for- 
sworn gymnastics  and  fireworks,  and  worked  soberly 
for  his  client.  Mercifully  the  hot  weather  was  yet 
young,  and  there  had  been  no  flagrant  cases  of  bar- 
rack-shootings up  to  the  time ;  and  the  jury  was  a 
good  one,  even  for  an  Indian  jury,  where  nine  men 
out  of  every  twelve  are  accustomed  to  weighing  evi- 
dence. Ortheris  stood  firm  and  was  not  shaken  by 
any  cross-examination.  The  one  weak  point  in  his 


*  LOVE-O'-WOMEN.'  293 

tale — the  presence  of  his  rifle  in  the  outer  veranda — • 
went  unchallenged  by  civilian  wisdom,  though  some 
of  the  witnesses  could  not  help  smiling.  The  Gov- 
ernment Advocate  called  for  the  rope;  contending 
throughout  that  the  murder  had  been  a  deliberate 
one.  Time  had  passed,  he  argued,  for  that  reflection 
which  comes  so  naturally  to  a  man  whose  honour  is 
lost.  There  was  also  the  Law,  ever  ready  and  anx- 
ious to  right  the  wrongs  of  the  common  soldier  if, 
indeed,  wrong  had  been  done.  But  he  doubted  much 
whether  there  had  been  any  sufficient  wrong.  Cause- 
less suspicion  over-long  brooded  upon  had  led,  by 
his  theory,  to  deliberate  crime.  But  his  attempts  to 
minimise  the  motive  failed.  The  most  disconnected 
witness  knew — had  known  for  weeks — the  causes  of 
offence,  and  the  prisoner,  who  naturally  was  the  last 
of  all  to  know,  groaned  in  the  dock  while  he  listened. 
The  one  question  that  the  trial  circled  round  was 
whether  Raines  had  fired  under  sudden  and  blind- 
ing provocation  given  that  very  morning,  and  in  the 
summing  up  it  was  clear  that  Ortheris's  evidence 
told.  He  had  contrived,  most  artistically,  to  suggest 
that  he  personally  hated  the  Sergeant,  who  had 
come  into  the  veranda  to  give  him  a  talking  to  for 
insubordination.  In  a  weak  moment  the  Govern- 
ment Advocate  asked  one  question  too  many, '  Beg- 
gin'  your  pardon,  sir/  Ortheris  replied, '  'e  was  callin' 
me  a  dam'  impudent  little  lawyer/  The  Court 
shook.  The  jury  brought  it  in  a  killing,  but  with 


294  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

every  provocation  and  extenuation  known  to  God 
or  man,  and  the  Judge  put  his  hand  to  his  brow 
before  giving  sentence,  and  the  Adam's  apple  in  the 
prisoner's  throat  went  up  and  down  mercury-pump- 
ing before  a  cyclone. 

In  consideration  of  all  'considerations,  from  his 
Commanding  Officer's  certificate  of  good  conduct  to 
the  sure  loss  of  pension,  service,  and  honour,  the 
prisoner  would  get  two  years,  to  be  served  in  India, 
and — there  need  be  no  demonstration  in  Court.  The 
Government  Advocate  scowled  and  picked  up  his 
papers ;  the  guard  wheeled  with  a  clash,  and  the 
prisoner  was  relaxed  to  the  Secular  Arm,  and  driven 
to  the  jail  in  a  broken  down  ticca-gharri. 

His  guard  and  some  ten  or  twelve  military  wit- 
nesses, being  less  important,  were  ordered  to  wait 
till  what  was  officially  called  the  cool  of  the  evening 
before  marching  back  to  cantonments.  They  gath- 
ered together  in  one  of  the  deep  red  brick  verandas 
of  a  disused  lock-up  and  congratulated  Ortheris,  who 
bore  his  honours  modestly.  I  sent  my  work  into 
the  office  and  joined  them.  Ortheris  watched  the 
Government  Advocate  driving  off  to  lunch. 

'That's  a  nasty  little  bald-'eaded  little  butcher, 
that  is/  he  said.  "E  don't  please  me.  'E's  got  a 
colley  dog  wot  do,  though.  I'm  goin'  up  to  Murree 
in  a  week.  That  dawg'll  bring  fifteen  rupees  any- 
wheres.' 
.-  '  You  had  better  spend  it  in  Masses/  said  Terence, 


'LOVE-O'-  WOMEN.'  295 

unbuckling  his  belt,  for  he  had  been  on  the  prison- 
er's guard,  standing  helmeted  and  bolt  upright  for 
three  long  hours. 

*  Not  me/  said  Ortheris  cheerfully.  *  Gawd'll  put 
it  down  to  B.  Comp'ny's  barrick  damages  one  o' 
these  days.  You  look  strapped,  Terence.' 

'  Faith,  I'm  not  so  young  as  I  was.  That  guard- 
in  ountin'  wears  on  the  sole  av  the  fut,  and  this ' — he 
sniffed  contemptuously  at  the  brick  veranda — '  is  as 
hard  setting  as  standin' ! ' 

'  Wait  a  minute.  I'll  get  the  cushions  out  of  my 
cart/  I  said. 

'  'Strewth — sofies !  We're  going  it  gay/  said  Or- 
theris, as  Terence  dropped  himself  section  by  section 
on  the  leather  cushions,  saying  prettily,  'May  you 
niver  want  a  soft  place  wheriver  you  go,  an'  power 
to  share  ut  wid  a  frind.  Another  for  yourself  ? 
That's  good.  It  lets  me  sit  longways.  Stanley,  pass 
me  a  poipe.  Augrrh !  An'  that's  another  man  gone 
all  to  pieces  bekaze  av  a  woman.  I  must  ha'  been 
on  forty  or  fifty  prisoners'  gyards,  first  an'  last,  an' 
I  hate  ut  new  ivry  time.' 

'  Let's  see.  You  were  on  Losson's  Lancey's,  Du- 
gard's,  and  Stebbins's,  that  I  can  remember/  I  said. 

'Ay,  an'  before  that  an'  before  that — scores  av 
thim/  he  answered  with  a  worn  smile.  '  'Tis  better 
to  die  than  to  live  for  them,  though.  Whin  Raines 
comes  out — he'll  be  changin'  his  kit  at  the  jail  now 
— he'll  think  that  too.  He  shud  ha'  shot  himself  an' 


296  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

the  woman  by  rights  an'  made  a  clean  bill  av  all. 
Now  he's  left  the  woman — she  tuk  tay  wid  Dinah 
Sunday  gone  last — an'  he's  left  himself.  Mackie's 
the  lucky  man.' 

*  He's  probably  getting  it  hot  where  he  is/  I  ven- 
tured, for  I  knew  something  of  the  dead  Corporal's 
record. 

'  Be  sure  av  that,'  said  Terence,  spitting  over  the 
edge  of  the  veranda.  '  But  f  what  he'll  get  there  is 
light  marchin'-ordher  to  fwhat  he'd  ha'  got  here  if 
he'd  lived.' 

'Surely  not.  He'd  have  gone  on  and  forgotten 
like  the  others.' 

'  Did  ye  know  Mackie  well,  sorr  ? '  said  Terence. 

'He  was  on  the  Pattiala  guard  of  honour  last 
winter,  and  I  went  out  shooting  with  him  in  an  ekka 
for  the  day,  and  I  found  him  rather  an  amusing 
man.' 

'  Well,  he'll  ha'  got  shut  av  amusemints,  excipt 
turnin'  from  wan  side  to  the  other,  these  few  years 
to  come.  I  knew  Mackie,  an'  I've  seen  too  many  to 
be  mistuk  in  the  muster  av  wan  man.  He  might  ha' 
gone  on  an'  forgot  as  you  say,  sorr,  but  he  was  a  man 
wid  an  educashin,  an'  he  used  ut  for  his  schames,  an* 
the  same  educashin,  an'  talkin',  an'  all  that  made  him 
able  to  do  fwhat  he  had  a  mind  to  wid  a  woman, 
that  same  wud  turn  back  again  in  the  long  run  an' 
tear  him  alive.  I  can't  say  fwhat  that  I  mane  to  say 
bekase  I  don't  know  how,  but  Mackie  was  the  spit 


*  LOVE-O'- WOMEN.'  297 

an'  livin'  image  av  a  man  that  I  saw  march  the  same 
march  all  but ;  an'  'twas  worse  for  him  that  he  did 
not  come  by  Mackie's  ind.  Wait  while  I  remimber 
now.  'Twas  f  whin  I  was  in  the  Black  Tyrone,  an'  he 
was  drafted  us  from  Portsmouth ;  an'  f  what  was  his 
misbegotten  name  ?  Larry — Larry  Tighe  ut  was ; 
an'  wan  of  the  draft  said  he  was  a  gentleman  ranker, 
an'  Larry  tuk  an'  three  parts  killed  him  for  saying 
so.  An'  he  was  a  big  man,  an'  a  strong  man,  an'  a 
handsome  man,  an'  that  tells  heavy  in  practice  wid 
some  women,  but,  takin'  them  by  an'  large,  not  wid 
all.  Yet  'twas  wid  all  that  Larry  dealt — all — for  he 
ud  put  the  comether  on  any  woman  that  trod  the 
green  earth  av  God,  an'  he  knew  ut.  Like  Mackie 
that's  roastin'  now,  he  knew  ut ;  an'  niver  did  he  put 
the  comether  on  any  woman  save  an'  excipt  for  the 
black  shame.  Tis  not  me  that  shud  be  talkin',  dear 
knows,  dear  knows,  but  the  most  av  my  mis — misal- 
linces  was  for  pure  devilry,  an'  mighty  sorry  I  have 
been  whin  harm  came  ;  an'  time  an'  again  wid  a  girl, 
ay,  an'  a  woman  too,  for  the  matter  av  that,  whin  I 
have  seen  by  the  eyes  av  her  that  I  was  makin'  more 
throuble  than  I  talked,  I  have  hild  off  an'  let  be  for 
the  sake  av  the  mother  that  bore  me.  But  Larry, 
I'm  thinkin',  he  was  suckled  by  a  she-devil,  for  he 
niver  let  wan  go  that  came  nigh  to  listen  to  him. 
'Twas  his  business,  as  if  it  might  ha'  bin  sinthry-go. 
He  was  a  good  soldier  too.  Now  there  was  the 
Colonel's  governess — an'  he  a  privit  too ! — that  was 


298  MANY  INVENTIONS. 

never  known  in  barricks;  an'  wan  av  the  Major's 
maids,  and  she  was  promised  to  a  man;  an*  some 
more  outside;  an'  fwhat  ut  was  amongst  us  we'll 
never  know  till  Judgment  Day !  'Twas  the  nature 
of  the  baste  to  put  the  comether  on  the  best  of  thim 
— not  the  prettiest  by  any  manner  av  manes — but  the 
like  av  such  woman  as  you  cud  lay  your  hand  on  the 
Book  an'  swear  there  was  niver  thought  av  foolish- 
ness in.  An'  for  that  very  reason,  mark  you,  he  was 
niver  caught.  He  came  close  to  ut  wanst  or  twice, 
but  caught  he  niver  was,  an'  that  cost  him  more  at 
the  ind  than  the  beginnin'.  He  talked  to  me  more 
than  most,  bekaze  he  tould  me,  barrin'  the  accident 
av  my  educashin,  I'd  ha'  been  the  same  kind  av  divil 
he  was.  "  An'  is  ut  like,"  he  wud  say,  houldin'  his 
head  high.  "  Is  ut  like  that  I'd  iver  be  thrapped  ? 
For  fwhat  am  I  when  all's  said  an'  done  ? "  he  sez. 
"  A  damned  privit,"  sez  he.  "  An'  is  ut  like,  think 
you,  that  thim  I  know  wud  be  connect  wid  a  privit 
like  me  ?  Number  tin  thousand  four  hundred  an' 
sivin,"  he  sez  grinnin'."  I  knew  by  the  turn  av  his 
spache  whin  he  was  not  takin'  care  to  talk  rough 
that  he  was  a  gentleman  ranker. 

'"I  do  not  undherstan'  ut  at  all/'  I  sez;  "but  I 
know,"  sez  I,  "  that  the  divil  looks  out  av  your  eyes, 
an'  I'll  have  no  share  wid  you.  A  little  fun  by  way 
av  amusemint  where  't  will  do  no  harm,  Larry,  is 
right  and  fair,  but  I  am  mistook  if  'tis  any  amuse- 
ment to  you,"  I  sez. 


*  LOVE-O5- WOMEN.'  299 

' "  You  are  much  mistook/'  lie  sez.  "  An'  I  counsel 
you  not  to  judge  your  betters." 

' "  My  betthers !  "  I  sez.  "  God  help  you,  Larry. 
There's  no  betther  in  this.  'Tis  all  bad,  as  you  will 
find  for  yoursilf." 

' "  You're  not  like  me/'  he  says,  tossin'  his  head. 

* "  Praise  the  Saints,  I  am  not,"  I  sez.  "  Fwhat  I 
have  done  I  have  done  an'  been  crool  sorry  for. 
Fwhin  your  time  comes,"  sez  I,  "ye'll  remimber 
fwhat  I  say." 

' "  An'  whin  that  time  comes,"  sez  he,  "  I'll  come 
to  you  for  ghostly  consolation,  Father  Terence,"  an* 
at  that  he  wint  off  afther  some  more  divil's  business 
— for  to  get  expayrience,  he  tould  me.  He  was 
wicked — rank  wicked— wicked  as  all  Hell !  I'm  not 
construct  by  nature  to  go  in  fear  av  any  man,  but, 
begad,  I  was  afraid  av  Larry.  He'd  come  in  to 
barricks  wid  his  cap  on  three  hairs,  an'  lie  on  his  cot 
and  stare  at  the  ceilin',  and  now  an'  again  he'd  fetch 
a  little  laugh,  the  like  av  a  splash  in  the  bottom  av  a 
well,  an'  by  that  I  knew  he  was  schamin'  new  wicked- 
ness, an'  I'd  be  afraid.  All  this  was  long  an'  long 
ago,  but  ut  hild  me  straight — for  a  while. 

'  I  tould  you,  did  I  not,  sorr,  that  I  was  caressed 
an'  pershuaded  to  lave  the  Tyrone  on  account  av  a 
throuble?' 

'  Something  to  do  with  a  belt  and  a  man's  head 
wasn't  it  ? '  Terence  had  never  given  me  the  exact 
facts. 


300  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

'  It  was.  Faith,  ivry  time  I  go  on  prisoner's  gyard 
in  coort  I  wondher  fwhy  I  ani  not  where  the  prisoner 
is.  But  the  man  I  struk  tuk  it  in  fair  fight  an'  he 
had  the  good  sinse  not  to  die.  Considher  now,  fwhat 
wud  ha'  come  to  the  Arrmy  if  he  had !  I  was  en- 
threated  to  exchange,  an'  my  Commandin'  Of'cer 
pled  wid  me.  I  wint,  not  to  be  disobligin',  an' 
Larry  tould  me  he  was  powerful  sorry  to  lose  me, 
though  fwhat  I'd  done  to  make  him  sorry  I  do  not 
know.  So  to  the  Ould  Reg'mint  I  came,  lavin'  Larry 
to  go  to  the  divil  his  own  way,  an'  niver  expectin'  to 
see  him  again  except  as  a  shootin'-case  in  barracks. 
.  .  .  Who's  that  lavin'  the  compound  ? '  Terence's 
quick  eye  had  caught  sight  of  a  white  uniform 
skulking  behind  the  hedge. 

*  The  Sergeant's  gone  visiting,'  said  a  voice. 

'  Thin  I  command  here,  an'  I  will  have  no  sneakin' 
away  to  the  bazar,  an'  huntin'  for  you  wid  a  pathrol 
at  midnight.  Nalson,  for  I  know  ut's  you,  come 
back  to  the  veranda.' 

Nalson,  detected,  slunk  back  to  his  fellows. 
There  was  a  grumble  that  died  away  in  a  minute 
or  two,  and  Terence  turning  on  the  other  side  went 
on: — 

'That  was  the  last  I  saw  av  Larry  for  a  while. 
Exchange  is  the  same  as  death  for  not  thinkin',  an' 
by  token  I  married  Dinah,  an'  that  kept  me  from 
remimberin'  ould  times.  Thin  we  wint  up  to  the 
Front,  an'  ut  tore  my  heart  in  tu  to  lave  Dinah  at 


'LOVE-O'-  WOMEN.'  301 

the  Depot  in  Pindi.  Consequint  whin  I  was  at  the 
Front  I  fought  circumspectuous  till  I  warrmed  up, 
an'  thin  I  fought  double  tides.  You  renumber 
fwhat  I  tould  you  in  the  gyard-gate  av  the  fight  at 
Silver's  Theatre/ 

'Wot's  that  about  Silver's  Theayter!'  said  Or- 
theris  quickly,  over  his  shoulder. 

*  Nothin',  little  man.  A  tale  that  ye  know.  As  I 
was  say  in',  afther  that  fight  us  av  the  Ould  Rig'mint 
an'  the  Tyrone  was  all  mixed  together  takin'  shtock 
av  the  dead,  an'  av  coorse  I  wint  about  to  find  if 
there  was  any  man  that  remimbered  me.  The  sec- 
ond man  I  came  acrost — an'  how  I'd  missed  him  in 
the  fight  I  do  not  know — was  Larry,  an'  a  fine  man 
he  looked,  but  oulder,  by  token  that  he  had  a  call  to 
be.  "  Larry,"  sez  I,  "  how  is  ut  wid  you  ?  " 

' "  Ye're  callin'  the  wrong  man,"  he  sez,  wid  his 
gentleman's  smile,  "  Larry  has  been  dead  these  three 
years.  They  call  him  '  Love-o'- Women '  now,"  he 
sez.  By  that  I  knew  the  ould  divil  was  in  him 
yet,  but  the  ind  av  a  fight  is  no  time  for  the  be- 
ginnin'  av  confession,  so  we  sat  down  an'  talked  av 
times. 

'"They  tell  me  you're  a  married  man,"  he  sez, 
puffing  slow  at  his  poipe.  "  Are  ye  happy  ?  " 

'"I  will  be  whin  I  get  back  to  Depot,"  I  sez. 
"  'Tis  a  reconnaissance  honeymoon  now." 

'  "  I'm  married  too,"  he  sez,  puffin'  slow  an'  more 
slow,  an'  stopperin'  wid  his  forefinger. 


302  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

'"Sind  you  happiness,"  I  sez.  "That's  the  best 
hearin'  for  a  long  time." 

' "  Are  ye  av  that  opinion  ?  "  he  sez ;  an'  thin  he 
began  talkin'  av  the  campaign.  The  sweat  of 
Silver's  Theatre  was  not  dhry  upon  him  an'  he  was 
prayin'  for  more  work.  I  was  well  contint  to  lie 
and  listen  to  the  cook-pot  lids. 

'  Whin  he  got  up  off  the  ground  he  shtaggered  a 
little,  an'  laned  over  all  twisted. 

' "  YeVe  got  more  than  ye  bargained  for,"  I  sez. 
"  Take  an  inventory,  Larry.  'Tis  like  you're  hurt." 

'  He  turned  round  stiff  as  a  ramrod  an'  damned 
the  eyes  av  me  up  an'  down  for  an  impartinent 
Irish-faced  ape.  If  that  had  been  in  barracks,  I'd 
ha'  stretched  him  an'  no  more  said ;  but  'twas  at  the 
Front,  an'  afther  such  a  fight  as  Silver's  Theatre  I 
knew  there  was  no  callin'  a  man  to  account  for  his 
tempers.  He  might  as  well  ha'  kissed  me.  Afther- 
wards  I  was  well  pleased  I  kept  my  fists  home. 
Then  our  Captain  Crook — Cruik-na-bulleen — came 
up.  He'd  been  talkin'  to  the  little  orf 'cer  bhoy  av 
the  Tyrone.  "  We're  all  cut  to  windystraws,"  he  sez, 
"but  the  Tyrone  are  damned  short  for  noncoms. 
Go  you  over  there,  MulVaney,  an'  be  Deputy-Ser- 
geant, Corp'ral,  Lance,  an'  everything  else  ye  can 
lay  hands  on  till  I  bid  you  stop." 

'  I  wint  over  an'  tuk  hould.  There  was  wan  ser- 
geant left  standin',  an'  they'd  pay  no  heed  to  him. 
The  remnint  was  me,  an*  'twas  high  time  I  came. 


'LOVE-O'- WOMEN.'  303 

Some  I  talked  to,  an'  some  I  did  not,  but  before  night 
the  bhoys  av  the  Tyrone  stud  to  attention,  by  gad,  if 
I  sucked  on  my  poipe  above  a  whishper.  Betune  you 
an'  me  an'  Bobbs  I  was  commandin'  the  company, 
an'  that  was  what  Cruik  had  thransferred  me  for, 
an'  the  little  orf'cer  bhoy  knew  ut,  and  I  knew  ut, 
but  the  comp'ny  did  not.  And  there,  mark  you,  is 
the  vartue  that  no  money  an'  no  dhrill  can  buy — the 
vartue  av  the  ould  soldier  that  knows  his  orf'cer's 
work  an'  does  ut — at  the  salute ! 

'Thin  the  Tyrone,  wid  the  Ould  Rig'mint  in 
touch,  was  sint  maraudin'  and  prowlin'  acrost  the 
hills  promishcuous  an'  unsatisfactory.  'Tis  my 
privit  opinion  that  a  gin'ral  does  not  know  half  his 
time  fwhat  to  do  wid  three-quarthers  his  command. 
So  he  shquats  on  his  hunkers  an'  bids  thim  run 
round  an'  round  forninst  him  while  he  considhers 
on  ut.  Whin  by  the  process  av  nature  they  get  se- 
juced  into  a  big  fight  that  was  none  av  their  seekin', 
he  sez :  "  Obsarve  my  shuperior  janius !  I  meant  ut 
to  come  so."  We  ran  round  an'  about,  an'  all  we 
got  was  shootin'  into  the  camp  at  night,  an'  rushin' 
empty  sungars  wid  the  long  bradawl,  an'  bein'  hit 
from  behind  rocks  till  we  was  wore  out — all  except 
Love-o'- Women.  That  puppy-dog  business  was 
mate  an'  dhrink  to  him.  Begad  he  cud  niver  get 
enough  av  ut.  Me  well  knowin'  that  it  is  just  this 
desultorial  campaignin'  that  kills  the  best  men,  an' 
suspicionin'  that  if  I  was  cut,  the  little  orf'cer  bhoy 


304  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

wud  expind  all  his  men  in  thryin'  to  get  out,  I  wud 
lie  most  powerful  doggo  whin  I  heard  a  shot,  an' 
curl  my  long  legs  behind  a  bowlder,  an'  run  like 
blazes  whin  the  ground  was  clear.  Faith,  if  I  led 
the  Tyrone  in  rethreat  wanst  I  led  them  forty  times. 
Love-o'- Women  wud  stay  pottin'  an'  pottin'  from 
behind  a  rock,  and  wait  till  the  fire  was  heaviest,  an' 
thin  stand  up  an'  fire  man-height  clear.  He  wud  lie 
out  in  camp  too  at  night  snipin'  at  the  shadows,  for 
he  never  tuk  a  mouthful  av  slape.  My  commandin' 
orf 'cer — save  his  little  soul ! — cud  not  see  the  beauty 
av  my  strategims,  an'  whin  the  Ould  Rig'mint 
crossed  us,  an'  that  was  wanst  a  week,  he'd  throt  off 
to  Cruik,  wid  his  big  blue  eyes  as  round  as  saucers, 
an'  lay  an  information  against  me.  I  heard  thim 
wanst  talkin'  through  the  tent-wall,  an'  I  nearly 
laughed. 

'"He  runs — runs  like  a  hare,"  sez  the  little 
orf'cer  bhoy.  "  Tis  demoralisin'  my  men." 

'"Ye  damned  little  fool,"  sez  Crook  laughin'. 
"  He's  larnin'  you  your  business.  Have  ye  been 
rushed  at  night  yet  ?" 

' "  No,"  sez  the  child ;  wishful  that  he  had  been. 

' "  Have  you  any  wounded  ?  "  sez  Cruik. 

'"No,"  he  sez.  "There  was  no  chanst  for  that. 
They  follow  Mulvaney  too  quick,"  he  sez. 

' "  Fwhat  more  do  you  want  thin  ? "  sez  Cruik. 
"Terence  is  bloodin'  you  neat  an'  handy,"  he  sez. 
"  He  knows  fwhat  you  do  not,  an'  that's  that  there's 


'LOVE-O'- WOMEN.'  305 

a  time  for  ivrything.  He'll  not  lead  you  wrong,"  he 
sez,  "but  I'd  give  a  month's  pay  to  larn  fwhat  he 
thinks  av  you." 

*  That  kept  the  babe  quiet,  but  Love-o'- Women, 
was  pokin'  at  me  for  ivrything  I  did,  an'  specially 
my  manoeuvres. 

' "  Mr.  Mulvaney,"  he  sez  wan  evening  very  con- 
tempshus,  "you're  growin'  very  jeldy  wid  your 
feet.  Among  gentlemen,"  he  sez,  "  among  gentlemen 
that's  called  no  pretty  name." 

' "  Among  privits  'tis  different,"  I  sez.  "  Get 
back  to  your  tent.  I'm  sergeant  here,"  I  sez. 

'  There  was  just  enough  in  the  voice  av  me  to  tell 
him  he  was  playin'  wid  his  life  betune  his  teeth. 
He  wint  off,  an'  I  noticed  that  this  man  that  was 
contempshus  set  off  from  the  halt  wid  a  shunt  as 
tho'  he  was  bein'  kicked  behind.  That  same  night 
there  was  a  Paythan  picnic  in  the  hills  about  an* 
firm'  into  our  tents  fit  to  wake  the  livin'  dead.  "  Lie 
down  all,"  I  sez.  "  Lie  down  an'  kape  still.  They'll 
no  more  than  waste  ammunition." 

*  I  heard  a  man's  feet  on  the  ground,  an'  thin  a 
'Tini  joinin'  in  the  chorus.     I'd  been  lyin'  warm, 
thinkin'  av  Dinah  an'  all,  but  I  crup  out  wid  the 
bugle  for  to  look  round  in  case  there  was  a  rush,  an' 
the  'Tini  was  flashin'  at  the  fore-ind  av  the  camp, 
an'  the  hill  near  by  was  fair  flickerin'  wid  long 
range  fire.     Undher  the  starlight  I  beheld  Love-o'- 
Women  settin'  on  a  rock  wid  his  belt  and  helmet  off. 


306  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

He  shouted  wanst  or  twice,  an'  thin  I  heard  him 
say :  "  They  shud  ha'  got  the  range  long  ago.  May- 
be they'll  fire  at  the  flash."  Thin  he  fired  again,  an* 
that  dhrew  a  fresh  volley,  and  the  long  slugs  that 
they  chew  in  their  teeth  came  floppin'  among  the 
rocks  like  tree-toads  av  a  hot  night.  "  That's  better," 
sez  Love-o'- Women.  "  Oh  Lord,  how  long,  how 
long ! "  he  sez,  an'  at  that  he  lit  a  match  an'  held  ut 
above  his  head. 

' "  Mad,"  thinks  I,  "  mad  as  a  coot,"  an'  I  tuk  wan 
stip  forward,  an'  the  nixt  I  knew  was  the  sole  av  my 
boot  flappin'  like  a  cavalry  gydon  an'  the  funny- 
bone  av  my  toes  tinglin'.  'Twas  a  clane-cut  shot — a 
slug — that  niver  touched  sock  or  hide,  but  set  me 
bare-fut  on  the  rocks.  At  that  I  tuk  Love-o'- 
Women  by  the  scruff  an'  threw  him  under  a  bowlder, 
an'  whin  I  sat  down  I  heard  the  bullets  patterin'  on 
that  good  stone. 

' "  Ye  may  dhraw  your  own  wicked  fire,"  I  sez, 
shakin'  him,  "  but  I'm  not  goin'  to  be  kilt  too." 

'"Ye've  come  too  soon,"  he  sez.  "Ye've  come 
too  soon.  In  another  minute  they  cud  not  ha'  missed 
me.  Mother  av'  God,"  he  sez,  "  f why  did  ye  not  lave 
me  be  ?  Now  'tis  all  to  do  again,"  an'  he  hides  his 
face  in  his  hands. 

' "  So  that's  it,"  I  sez,  shakin'  him  again.  "  That's 
the  manin'  av  your  disobeyin'  ordhers." 

* "  I  dare  not  kill  meself,"  he  sez,  rockin'  to  and 
fro.  "  My  own  hand  wud  not  let  me  die,  and  there's 


'  LOVE-O'-WOMEN.'  307 

not  a  bullet  this  month  past  wud  touch  me.  I'm  to 
die  slow/'  he  sez.  "  I'm  to  die  slow.  But  I'm  in  hell 
now/'  he  sez,  shriekin'  like  a  woman.  "  I'm  in  hell 
now!" 

' "  God  be  good  to  us  all/'  I  sez,  for  I  saw  his 
face.  "  Will  ye  tell  a  man  the  throuble.  If  'tis  not 
murder,  maybe  we'll  mend  it  yet." 

'  At  that  he  laughed.  "  D'you  remimber  fwhat  I 
said  in  the  Tyrone  barricks  about  comin'  to  you  for 
ghostly  consolation.  I  have  not  forgot,"  he  sez. 
"  That  came  back,  an'  the  rest  av  my  time  is  on  me 
now,  Terence.  I've  fought  ut  off  for  months  an' 
months,  but  the  liquor  will  not  bite  any  more,  Ter- 
ence," he  sez.  "  I  can't  get  dhrunk." 

'  Thin  I  knew  he  spoke  the  truth  about  bein'  in 
hell,  for  whin  liquor  does  not  take  hould,  the  sowl 
av  a  man  is  rotten  in  him.  But  me  bein'  such  as  I 
was,  fwhat  could  I  say  to  him  ? 

' "  Diamonds  an'  pearls,"  he  begins  again.  "  Dia- 
monds and  pearls  I  have  thrown  away  wid  both 
hands — an'  fwhat  have  I  left  ?  Oh,  fwhat  have  I 
left  ?  " 

'  He  was  shakin'  an'  thremblin'  up  against  my 
shouldher,  an'  the  slugs  were  singin'  overhead,  an'  I 
was  wonderin'  whether  my  little  bhoy  wud  have 
sinse  enough  to  kape  his  men  quiet  through  all  this 
firm'. 

' "  So  long  as  I  did  not  think,"  sez  Love-o'- Women, 
"  so  long  I  did  not  see — I  wud  not  see — but  I  can 


308  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

now,  what  I've  lost.  The  time  an'  the  place,"  he 
sez,  "  an'  the  very  words  I  said  whin  ut  pleased  me 
to  go  off  alone  to  hell.  But  thin,  even  thin,"  he  sez, 
wrigglin'  tremenjous,  "  I  wud  not  ha'  been  happy. 
There  was  too  much  behind  av  me.  How  cud  I  ha' 
believed  her  sworn  oath — me  that  have  bruk  mine 
again  an'  again  for  the  sport  av  seein'  them  cry. 
An'  there  are  the  others,"  he  sez.  "  Oh,  what  will  I 
do — what  will  I  do  ?  "  He  rocked  back  an'  forward 
again,  an'  I  think  he  was  cryin'  like  wan  av  the 
women  he  dealt  wid. 

'The  full  half  av  fwhat  he  said  was  Brigade 
Ordhers  to  me,  but  from  the  rest  an'  the  remnint  I 
suspicioned  somethin*  av  his  throuble.  'Twas  the 
judgmint  av  God  had  grup  the  heel  av  him,  as  I 
tould  him  'twould  in  the  Tyrone  barricks.  The 
slugs  was  singin'  over  our  rock  more  an'  more,  an' 
I  sez  for  to  divart  him :  "  Let  bad  alone,"  I  sez. 
"  They'll  be'  tryin'  to  rush  the  camp  in  a  minut'." 

'  I  had  no  more  than  said  that  whin  a  Paythan 
man  crep'  up  on  his  belly  wid  his  knife  betune  his 
teeth,  not  twinty  yards  from  us.  Love-o'- Women 
jumped  up  an'  fetched  a  yell,  an'  the  man  saw  him 
an'  ran  at  him  (he'd  left  his  rifle  under  the  rock)  wid 
the  knife.  Love-o'- Women  niver  turned  a  hair,  but 
by  the  Living  Power,  for  I  saw  ut,  a  stone  twisted 
under  the  Paythan  man's  feet  an'  he  came  down  full 
sprawl,  an'  his  knife  wint  tinkling  acrost  the  rocks ! 
"I  tould  you  I  was  Cain,"  sez  Love-o'-Women. 


'LOVE-O'- WOMEN.'  309 

"  Fwhat's  the  use  av  killin'  him  ?  He's  an  honest 
man — by  compare." ' 

'  I  was  not  dishputin'  about  the  morils  av  Pay- 
thans  that  tide,  so  I  dhropped  Love-o'- Women's  butt 
acrost  the  man's  face,  an'  "  Hurry  into  camp,"  I  sez, 
"  for  this  may  be  the  first  av  a  rush." 

'  There  was  no  rush  after  all,  though  we  waited 
undher  arms  to  give  them  a  chanst.  The  Paythan 
man  must  ha'  come  alone  for  the  mischief,  an'  af ther 
a  while  Love-o'- Women  wint  back  to  his  tint  wid  that 
quare  lurchin'  sind-off  in  his  walk  that  I  cud  niver 
understand.  Begad  I  pitied  him,  an'  the  more  bekase 
he  made  mfe  think  for  the  rest  av  the  night  av  the 
day  whin  I  was  confirmed  Corp'ril,  not  actin' 
Lef'tenant,  an'  my  thoughts  was  not  good.' 

'  Ye  can  ondersthand  that  afther  that  night  we 
came  to  talkin'  a  dale  together,  an'  bit  by  bit  ut 
came  out  f  what  I'd  suspicioned.  The  whole  av  his 
carr'in's  on  an'  devilments  had  come  back  on  him 
hard  as  liquor  comes  back  whin  you've  been  on  the 
dhrink  for  a  wake.  All  he'd  said  an'  all  he'd  done, 
an'  only  he  cud  tell  how  much  that  was,  come  back, 
an'  there  was  niver  a  minut's  peace  in  his  sowl. 
'Twas  the  Horrors  widout  any  cause  to  see,  an'  yet, 
an'  yet — f  what  am  I  talkin'  av  ?  He'd  ha'  taken  the 
Horrors  wid  thankfulness.  Bey  on'  the  repentince  av 
the  man,  an'  that  was  beyon'  the  nature  av  man — 
awful,  awful,  to  behould ! — there  was  more  that  was 
worst  than  any  repentince.  Av  the  scores  an'  scores 


310  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

that  he  called  over  in  his  mind  (an'  they  were  drivin* 
him  mad),  there  was,  mark  you,  wan  woman  av  all 
an'  she  was  not  his  wife,  that  cut  him  to  the  quick 
av  his  marrow.  'Twas  there  he  said  that  he'd  thrown 
away  di'monds  an'  pearls  past  count,  an'  thin  he'd 
begin  again  like  a  blind  byle  in  an  oil-mill,  walkin* 
round  and  round,  to  considher  (him  that  was  beyond 
all  touch  av  being  happy  this  side  hell !)  how  happy 
he  wud  ha'  been  wid  her.  The  more  he  considhered, 
the  more  he'd  consate  himself  that  he'd  lost  mighty 
happiness,  an'  thin  he  wud  work  ut  all  backwards, 
an'  cry  that  he  niver  cud  ha'  been  happy  anyways. 

*  Time  an'  time  an'  again  in  camp,  o>n  p'rade,  ay, 
an'  in  action,  I've  seen  that  man  shut  his  eyes  an' 
duck  his  head  as  you  wud  duck  to  the  flicker  av 
a  bay 'nit.  For  'twas  thin  he  tould  me  that  the 
thought  av  all  he'd  missed  came  an'  stud  forninst 
him  like  red-hot  irons.  For  what  he'd  done  wid  the 
others  he  was  sorry,  but  he  did  not  care ;  but  this 
wan  woman  that  I've  tould  of,  by  the  Hilts  av  God 
she  made  him  pay  for  all  the  others  twice  over! 
Niver  did  I  know  that  a  man  cud  enjure  such  tor- 
mint  widout  his  heart  crackin'  in  his  ribs,  an'  I  have 
been ' — Terence  turned  the  pipe-stem  slowly  between 
his  teeth — '  I  have  been  in  some  black  cells.  All  I 
iver  suffered  tho'  was  not  to  be  talked  of  alongside 
av  him  .  .  .  an'  what  could  I  do  ?  Paternosters  was 
no  more  than  peas  for  his  sorrow. 

( Evenshually  we  finished  our  prom'nade  acrost 


'  LOVE-0'- WOMEN.'  311 

the  hills,  and  thanks  to  me  for  the  same  there  was 
no  casualties  an'  no  glory.  The  campaign  was  com- 
in'  to  an  ind,  an'  all  the  rig'mints  was  bein'  drawn 
together  for  to  be  sint  back  home.  Love-o'-Women 
was  mighty  sorry  bekase  he  had  no  work  to  do,  an* 
all  his  time  to  think  in.  I've  heard  that  man  talkin' 
to  his  belt-plate  an'  his  side-arms  while  he  was  sol- 
dierin'  thim,  all  to  prevint  himself  from  thinkin-', 
an'  ivry  time  he  got  up  at' ther  he  had  been  settin' 
down  or  wint  on  from  the  halt,  he'd  start  wid  that 
kick  an'  traverse  that  I  tould  you  of — his  legs 
sprawlin'  all  ways  to  wanst.  He  wud  niver  go  see 
the  docthor,  tho'  I  tould  him  to  be  wise.  He'd  curse 
me  up  an'  down  for  my  advice ;  but  I  knew  he  was 
no  more  a  man  to  be  reckoned  wid  than  the  little 
bhoy  was  a  cornmandin'  orf'cer,  so  I  let  his  tongue 
run  if  it  aised  him. 

f  Wan  day — 'twas  on  the  way  back — I  was  walk- 
in'  round  camp  wid  him,  an'  he  stopped  an'  struck 
ground  wid  his  right  fut  three  or  four  times  doubt- 
ful. "  Fwhat  is  ut  ?  "  I  sez.  "  Is  that  ground  ?  "  sez 
he ;  an'  while  I  was  thinkin'  his  mind  was  goin',  up 
comes  the  docthor,  who'd  been  anatomism'  a  dead 
bullock.  Love-o'- Women  starts  to  go  on  quick,  an' 
lands  me  a  kick  on  the  knee  while  his  legs  was  get- 
tin'  into  marchin'  ordher. 

' "  Hould  on  there,"  sez  the  docthor ;  an'  Love-o'- 
Women's  face,  that  was  lined  like  a  gridiron,  turns 
red  as  brick. 


312  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

'"'Tention,"  says  the  docthor ;  an'  Love-o'- Women 
stud  so.  "Now  shut  your  eyes,"  sez  the  docthor. 
"  No,  ye  must  not  hould  by  your  comrade." 

'"Tis  all  up,"  sez  Love-o'- Women  trying  to 
smile.  "  I'd  fall,  docthor,  an'  you  know  ut." 

'"Fall?"  I  sez.  "Fall  at  attention  wid  your 
eyes  shut !  Fwhat  do  you  mane  ?  " 

' "  The  docthor  knows,"  he  sez.  "  I've  hild  up  as 
long  as  I  can,  but  begad  I'm  glad  'tis  all  done.  But 
I  will  die  slow,"  he  sez,  "  I  will  die  very  slow." 

'  I  cud  see  by  the  docthor's  face  that  he  was  mor- 
tial  sorry  for  the  man,  an'  he  ordered  him  to  hospi- 
tal. We  wint  back  together,  an'  I  was  dumbstruck, 
Love-o'- Women  was  cripplin'  and  crumblin'  at  ivry 
step.  He  walked  wid  a  hand  on  my  shoulder  all 
slued  sideways,  an'  his  right  leg  swingin'  like  a  lame 
camel.  Me  not  knowin'  more  than  the  dead  f  what 
ailed  him,  'twas  just  as  though  the  docthor's  word 
had  done  ut  all — as  if  Love-o'- Women  had  but  been 
waitin'  for  the  ordher  to  let  go. 

'  In  hospital  he  sez  somethin'  to  the  docthor  that 
I  could  not  catch. 

' "  Holy  Shmoke ! "  sez  the  docthor,  "  an'  who  are 
you  to  be  givin'  names  to  your  diseases  ?  'Tis  agin 
all  the  regulations." 

' "  I'll  not  be  a  privit  much  longer,"  sez  Love-o'- 
Women  in  his  gentleman's  voice,  an'  the  docthor 
jumped. 

'"Trate  me  as  a  study,  Doctor  Lowndes,"  he  sez; 


'  LOVE-O'- WOMEN.'  313 

an'  that  was  the  first  time  I'd  iver  heard  a  docthor 
called  his  name. 

' "  Good-bye,  Terence,"  sez  Love-o'- Women.  "  Tis 
a  dead  man  I  am  widout  the  pleasure  av  dyin'. 
You'll  come  an'  set  wid  me  sometimes  for  the  peace 
av  my  soul." 

'  Now  I  had  been  minded  to  ask  Cruik  to  take  me 
back  to  the  Ould  Kig'mint,  for  the  fightin'  was  over, 
an'  I  was  wore  out  wid  the  ways  av  the  bhoys  in  the 
Tyrone ;  but  I  shifted  my  will,  an'  hild  on,  an'  wint 
to  set  wid  Love-o'- Women  in  the  hospital.  As  I 
have  said,  sorr,  the  man  bruk  all  to  little  pieces 
under  my  hand.  How  long  he  had  hild  up  an' 
forced  himself  fit  to  march  I  cannot  tell,  but  in  hos- 
pital but  two  days  later  he  was  such  as  I  hardly 
knew.  I  shuk  hands  wid  him,  an'  his  grip  was  fair 
strong,  but  his  hands  wint  all  ways  to  wanst,  an'  he 
cud  not  button  his  tunic. 

' "  I'll  take  long  an'  long  to  die  yet,"  he  sez,  "  for 
the  ways  of  sin  they're  like  interest  in  the  reg'- 
mental  savin's-bank — sure,  but  a  damned  long  time 
bein'  paid." 

'The  docthor  sez  to  me,  quiet  one  day,  "Has 
Tighe  there  anythin'  on  his  mind  ?  "  he  sez.  "  He's 
burnin'  himself  out." 

* "  How  shud  I  know,  sorr  ?  "  I  sez,  as  innocent  as 
putty. 

' "  They  call  him  Love-o'-Women  in  the  Tyrone, 
do  they  not  ? "  he  sez.  "  I  was  a  fool  to  ask.  Be 


314  MANY  INVENTIONS. 

wid  him  all  you  can.  He's  houldin'  on  to  your 
strength." 

' "  But  f  what  ails  him,  docthor,"  I  sez. 

'"They  call  ut  Locomotus  attacks  us,"  he  sez, 
"  bekase,"  sez  he,  "  ut  attacks  us  like  a  locomotive,  if 
ye  know  fwhat  that  manes.  An'  ut  comes,"  sez  he, 
lookin'  at  me,  "  ut  comes  from  bein'  called  Love-o'- 
Women." 

'"You're  jokin',  docthor,"  I  sez. 

' "  Jokin' ! "  sez  he.  "  If  iver  you  feel  that  you've 
got  a  felt  sole  in  your  boot  instead  av  a  Government 
bull's-wool,  come  to  me,"  he  sez,  "  an'  I'll  show  you 
whether  'tis  a  joke." 

'  You  would  not  belave  ut,  sorr,  but  that  an'  see- 
in'  Love-o'- Women  overtuk  widout  warnin'  put  the 
cowld  fear  av  attacks  us  on  me  so  strong  that  for  a 
week  an'  more  I  was  kickin'  my  toes  against  stones 
an'  stumps  for  the  pleasure  av  feelin'  them  hurt. 

'An'  Love-o'- Women  lay  in  the  cot  (he  might 
have  gone  down  wid  the  wounded  before  an'  before 
but  he  asked  to  stay  wid  me),  and  fwhat  there  was 
in  his  mind  had  full  swing  at  him  night  an'  day  an* 
ivry  hour  av  the  day  an'  the  night,  an'  he  withered 
like  beef  rations  in  a  hot  sun,  an'  his  eyes  was  like 
owls'  eyes,  an'  his  hands  was  mut'nous. 

'They  was  gettin'  the  rig'mints  away  wan  by 
wan,  the  campaign  bein'  inded,  but  as  uslmil  they 
was  behavin'  as  if  niver  a  rig'mint  had  been  moved 
before  in  the  mem'ry  av  man.  Now,  fwhy  is  that, 


'  LOVE-0'- WOMEN.'  3l5 

sorr  ?  There's  fightin'  in  an'  out  nine  months  av  the 
twelve  somewhere  in  the  Army.  There  has  been — 
for  years  an'  years  an'  years,  an'  I  wud  ha'  thought 
they'd  begin  to  get  the  hang  av  providin'  for  throops. 
But  no !  Ivry  time  it's  like  a  girls'  school  meetin'  a 
big  red  bull  whin  they're  goin'  to  church;  an' 
"  Mother  av  God,"  sez  the  Commissariat  an'  the  rail- 
ways an'  the  Barrick-masters,  "fwhat  will  we  do 
now  ? "  The  ordhers  came  to  us  av  the  Tyrone  an' 
the  Ould  Rig'mint  an'  half  a  dozen  more  to  go  down, 
an'  there  the  ordhers  stopped  dumb.  We  wint 
down,  by  the  special  grace  av  God — down  the 
Khaiber  anyways.  There  was  sick  wid  us,  an'  I'm 
thinkin'  that  some  av  them  was  jolted  to  death  in 
the  doolies,  but  they  was  anxious  to  be  kilt  so  if 
they  cud  get  to  Peshawur  alive  the  sooner.  I  walked 
by  Love-o'- Women — there  was  no  marchin',  an' 
Love-o'- Women  was  not  in  a  stew  to  get  on.  "  If 
I'd  only  ha'  died  up  there ! "  sez  he  through  the 
dooli- curtains,  an'  then  he'd  twist  up  his  eyes  an' 
duck  his  head  for  the  thoughts  that  came  to  him. 

'  Dinah  was  in  Depot  at  Pindi,  but  I  wint  circum- 
spectuous,  for  well  I  knew  'tis  just  at  the  rump-ind 
av  all  things  that  his  luck  turns  on  a  man.  By  token 
I  had  seen  a  dhriver  of  a  batthery  goin'  by  at  a  trot 
singin' "  Home,  swate  home  "  at  the  top  av  his  shout, 
and  takin'  no  heed  to  his  bridle-hand — I  had  seen 
that  man  dhrop  under  the  gun  in  the  middle  of  a 

word,  and  come  out  by  the  limber  like — like  a  frog 
21 


316  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

on  a  pavestone.  No.  I  wud  not  hurry,  though, 
God  knows,  my  heart  was  all  in  Pindi.  Love-o'- 
Women  saw  f  what  was  in  my  mind,  an'  "  go  on, 
Terence/'  he  sez,  "  I  know  f  what's  waitin'  for  you." 
"  I  will  not,"  I  sez.  "  'Twill  kape  a  little  yet." 

*  Ye  know  the  turn  of  the  pass  forninst  Jumrood 
and  the  nine  mile  road  on  the  flat  to  Peshawur  ? 
All  Peshawur  was  along  that  road  day  and  night 
waitiii'  for  frinds — men,  women,  childer,  and  bands. 
Some  av  the  throops  was  camped  round  Jumrood, 
an'  some  went  on  to  Peshawur  to  get  away  down  to 
their  cantonmints.  We  came  through  in  the  early 
mornin',  havin'  been  awake  the  night  through,  and 
we  dhruv  sheer  into  the  middle  av  the  mess.  Mother 
av  Glory,  will  I  ever  forget  that  comin'  back  ?  The 
light  was  not  fair  lifted,  and  the  furst  we  heard  was 
"  For  'tis  my  delight  av  a  shiny  night,"  frum  a  band 
that  thought  we  was  the  second  four  comp'nies  av 
the  Lincolnshire.  At  that  we  was  forced  to  sind 
them  a  yell  to  say  who  we  was,  an'  thin  up  wint 
"  The  wearin'  av  the  Green."  It  made  me  crawl  all 
up  my  backbone,  not  havin'  taken  my  brequist. 
Thin,  right  smash  into  our  rear,  came  f  what  was  left 
as  the  Jock  Elliott's — wid  four  pipers  an'  not  half  a 
kilt  among  thim,  playin'  for  the  dear  life,  an'  swingin' 
their  rumps  like  buck  rabbits,  an'  a  native  rig'mint 
shrieking  blue  murther.  Ye  niver  heard  the  like. 
There  was  men  cryin'  like  women  that  did — an' 
faith  I  do  not  blame  thim.  Fwhat  bruk  me  down 


'  LOVE-O'-WOMEN.'  317 

was  the  Lancers'  Band — shinin'  an'  spick  like  angels, 
wid  the  ould  dhrum-horse  at  the  head  an'  the  silver 
kettle-dhrums  an'  all  an'  all,  waitin'  for  their  men 
that  was  behind  us.  They  shtruck  up  the  Cavalry 
Canter,  an'  begad  those  poor  ghosts  that  had  not  a 
sound  fut  in  a  throop  they  answered  to  ut ;  the  men 
rockin'  in  their  saddles.  We  thried  to  cheer  them 
as  they  wint  by,  but  ut  came  out  like  a  big  gruntin' 
cough,  so  there  must  have  been  many  that  was 
f eelin'  like  me.  Oh,  but  I'm  forgettin' !  The  Fly-by- 
Nights  was  waitin'  for  their  second  battalion,  an' 
whin  ut  came  out,  there  was  the  Colonel's  horse  led 
at  the  head — saddle-empty.  The  men  fair  wor- 
shipped him,  an'  he'd  died  at  Ali  Musfid  on  the  road 
down.  They  waited  till  the  remnint  av  the  battalion 
was  up,  and  thin — clane  against  ordhers,  for  who 
wanted  that  chune  that  day? — they  wint  back  to 
Peshawur  slow-time  an'  tearin'  the  bowils  out  av 
ivry  man  that  heard,  wid  "  The  Dead  March."  Right 
across  our  line  they  wint,  an'  ye  know  their  uniforms 
are  as  black  as  the  Sweeps,  crawlin'  past  like  the 
dead,  an'  the  other  bands  damnin'  them  to  let  be. 

'  Little  they  cared.  The  carpse  was  wid  them,  an 
they'd  ha'  taken  ut  so  through  a  Coronation.  Our 
ordhers  was  to  go  into  Peshawur,  an'  we  wint  hot 
fut  past  the  Fly-by-Mghts,  not  singin/  to  lave  that 
chune  behind  us.  That  was  how  we  tuk  the  road  of 
the  other  corps. 

'  'Twas  ringin'  in  my  ears  still  whin  I  felt  in  the 


318  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

bones  of  me  that  Dinah  was  comin',  an'  I  heard  a 
shout,  an'  thin  I  saw  a  horse  an'  a  tattoo  latherin' 
down  the  road,  hell  to  shplit,  under  women.  I  knew 
— I  knew !  Wan  was  the  Tyrone  Colonel's  wife — 
ould  Beeker's  lady — her  gray  hair  flyin'  an'  her  fat 
round  carkiss  rowlin'  in  the  saddle,  an'  the  other  was 
Dinah,  that  shud  ha'  been  at  Pindi.  The  Colonel's 
lady  she  charged  at  the  head  av  our  column  like 
a  stone  wall  an'  she  all  but  knocked  Beeker  off  his 
horse  throwin'  her  arms  round  his  neck  an'  blub- 
berin',  *  Me  bhoy  !  me  bhoy  ! '  an'  Dinah  wheeled  left 
an'  came  down  our  flank,  an'  I  let  a  yell  that  had 
suffered  inside  av  me  for  months  and — Dinah  came. 
"Will  I  iver  forget  that  while  I  live !  She'd  come  on 
pass  from  Pindi,  an'  the  colonel's  lady  had  lint  her 
the  tattoo.  They'd  been  huggin'  an'  cryin'  in  each 
other's  arms  all  the  long  night. 

*  So  she  walked  along  wid  her  hand  in  mine,  ask- 
in'  forty  questions  to  wanst,  an'  beggin'  me  on  the 
Virgin  to  make  oath  that  there  was  not  a  bullet 
consaled  in  me,  unbeknownst  somewhere,  an'  thin  I 
remimbered  Love-o'- Women.  He  was  watchin'  us, 
an'  his  face  was  like  the  face  av  a  divil  that  has 
been  cooked  too  long.  I  did  not  wish  Dinah  to  see 
ut,  for  whin  a  woman's  runnin'  over  with  happiness 
she's  like  to  be  touched,  for  harm  afther wards,  by 
the  laste  little  thing  in  life.  So  I  dhrew  the  curtain, 
an'  Love-o'- Women  lay  back  and  groaned. 

'  Whin  we  marched  into  Peshawur  Dinah  wint  to 


'LOVE-O'- WOMEN.'  319 

barracks  to  wait  for  me,  an'  me  feelin'  so  rich,  that 
tide,  I  wint  on  to  take  Love-o'- Women  to  hospital. 
It  was  the  last  I  cud  do,  an'  to  save  him  the  dust  an' 
the  smother  I  turned  the  dooli-men  down  a  road 
well  clear  av  the  rest  av  the  throops,  an'  we  wint 
along,  me  talkin'  through  the  curtains.  Av  a  sudden 
I  heard  him  say  : — 

'  "  Let  me  look.  For  the  Mercy  av  Hiven,  let  me 
look ! "  I  had  been  so  tuk  up  wid  gettin'  him  out  av 
the  dust  an'  thinkin'  of  Dinah  that  I  had  not  kept 
my  eyes  about  -me.  There  was  a  woman  ridin'  a 
little  behind  av  us,  an'  talkin'  ut  over  wid  Dinah 
afterwards  that  same  woman  must  ha'  rid  not  far  on 
the  Jumrood  road.  Dinah  said  that  she  had  been 
hoverin'  like  a  kite  on  the  left  flank  av  the  column. 

'I  halted  the  dooli  to  set  the  curtains,  an'  she 
rode  by  walkin'  pace,  an'  Love-o'- Women's  eyes 
went  afther  her  as  if  he  would  fair  haul  her  down 
from  the  saddle. 

' "  Follow  there,"  was  all  he  sez,  but  I  niver  heard 
a  man  spake  in  that  voice  before  or  since,  an'  I  knew 
by  those  two  wan  words  an'  the  look  in  his  face  that 
she  was  Di'monds-an'-Pearls  that  he'd  talked  av  in 
his  disthresses. 

'  We  followed  till  she  turned  into  the  gate  av  a 
little  house  that  stud  near  the  Edwardes's  Gate. 
There  was  two  girls  in  the  veranda,  an'  they  ran  in 
whin  they  saw  us.  Faith,  at  long  eye-range  it  did 
not  take  me  a  wink  to  see  fwhat  kind  av  house  ut 


320  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

was.  The  throops  bein*  there  an'  all,  there  was  three 
or  four  such,  but  aftherwards  the  polls  bade  them 
go.  At  the  veranda  Love-o'- Women  sez,  catching 
his  breath,  "Stop  here,"  an*  thin,  an'  thin,  wid  a 
grunt  that  must  ha'  tore  the  heart  up  from  his 
stomach,  he  swung  himself  out  av  the  dooli,  an'  my 
troth  he  stud  up  on  his  feet  wid  the  sweat  pourin' 
down  his  face.  If  Mackie  was  to  walk  in  here  now 
I'd  be  less  tuk  back  than  I  was  thin.  Where  he'd 
dhrawn  his  power  from,  God  knows — or  the  Divil — 
but  'twas  a  dead  man  walkin'  in  the  sun  wid  the  face 
av  a  dead  man  and  the  breath  av  a  dead  man  held 
up  by  the  Power,  an'  the  legs  an'  the  arms  of  the 
carpse  obeyin'  ordhers ! 

'  The  woman  stud  in  the  veranda.  She'd  been  a 
beauty  too,  though  her  eyes  was  sunk  in  her  head, 
an'  she  looked  Love-o'- Women  up  an'  down  terrible. 
"  An',"  she  sez,  kicking  back  the  tail  av  her  habit, — 
"  An',"  she  sez,  "  fwhat  are  you  doin'  here,  married 
man?" 

'  Love-o'- Women  said  nothin',  but  a  little  froth 
came  to  his  lips,  an'  he  wiped  ut  off  wid  his  hand  an' 
looked  at  her  an'  the  paint  on  her,  an'  looked,  an* 
looked,  an'  looked. 

' "  An'  yet,"  she  sez,  wid  a  laugh.  (Did  you  hear 
Mrs.  Raines  laugh  whin  Mackie  died  ?  Ye  did  not  ? 
Well  for  you.)  "  An'  yet,"  she  sez,  "  who  but  you 
have  betther  right,"  sez  she.  "You  taught  me  the 
road.  You  showed  me  the  way,"  she  sez.  "Ay, 


'  LOVE-O'-  WOMEN. '  321 

look,"  she  sez,  "for  'tis  your  work;  you  that  tould 
me — d'you  remimber  it  ? — that  a  woman  who  was 
false  to  wan  man  cud  be  false  to  two.  I  have  been 
that,"  she  sez,  "  that  an'  more,  for  you  always  said  I 
was  a  quick  learner,  Ellis.  Look  well,"  she  sez,  "  for 
it  is  me  that  you  called  your  wife  in  the  sight  av 
God  long  since  ! "  An'  she  laughed. 

'  Love-o'- Women  stud  still  in  the  sun  widout  an- 
swerin'.  Thin  he  groaned  an  coughed  to  wanst,  an' 
I  thought  'twas  the  death-rattle,  but  he  niver  tuk 
his  eyes  off  her  face  not  for  a  wink.  Ye  cud  ha'  put 
her  eyelashes  through  the  flies  av  an  E.  P.  tent,  they 
were  so  long. 

' "  Fwhat  do  you  do  here  ? "  she  sez,  word  by 
word,  "that  have  taken  away  my  joy  in  my  man 
this  five  years  gone — that  have  broken  my  rest  an' 
killed  my  body  an'  damned  my  soul  for  the  sake  av 
seein'  how  'twas  done  ?  Did  your  expayrience  af ther- 
wards  bring  you  acrost  any  woman  that  gave  you 
more  than  I  did  ?  Wud  I  not  ha'  died  for  you  an' 
wid  you,  Ellis  ?  Ye  know  that,  man !  If  ever  your 
lyin'  sowl  saw  truth  in  uts  life  ye  know  that." 

'  An'  Love-o'- Women  lifted  up  his  head  and  said, 
"  I  knew,"  an'  that  was  all.  While  she  was  spakin' 
the  Power  hild  him  up  parade-set  in  the  sun,  an'  the 
sweat  dhropped  undher  his  helmet.  'Twas  more  an' 
more  throuble  for  him  to  talk,  an'  his  mouth  was 
running  twistways. 

* "  Fwhat  do  you  do  here  ? "  she  sez,  an'  her  voice 


322  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

wint  up.  'Twas  like  bells  tollin'  before.  "Time 
was  whin  you  were  quick  enough  wid  your  words, — 
you  that  talked  me  down  to  hell.  Are  ye  dumb 
now  ?  "  An'  Love-o'- Women  got  his  tongue,  an'  sez 
simple,  like  a  little  child,  "  May  I  come  in  ?  "  he  sez. 

1 "  The  house  is  open  day  an'  night,"  she  sez,  wid 
a  laugh ;  an'  Love-o'- Women  ducked  his  head  an' 
hild  up  his  hand  as  tho'  he  was  gyardin'.  The  Power 
was  on  him  still — it  hild  him  up  still,  for,  by  my 
sowl,  as  I'll  never  save  ut,  he  walked  up  the  veran- 
da steps  that  had  been  a  livin'  corpse  in  hospital 
for  a  month ! 

' "  An'  now  ?  "  she  sez,  lookin'  at  him ;  an'  the  red 
paint  stud  lone  on  the  white  av  her  face  like  a  bull's- 
eye  on  a  target. 

'  He  lifted  up  his  eyes,  slow  an'  very  slow,  an'  he 
looked  at  her  long  an'  very  long,  an'  he  tuk  his 
spache  betune  his  teeth  wid  a  wrench  that  shuk  him. 

' "  I'm  dyin',  Aigypt — dyin',"  he  sez  ;  ay,  those 
were  his  words,  for  I  remimber  the  name  he  called 
her.  He  was  turnin'  the  death-colour,  but  his  eyes 
niver  rowled.  They  were  set — set  on  her.  Widout 
word  or  warnin'  she  opened  her  arms  full  stretch,  an' 
"  Here !  "  she  sez.  (Oh,  f what  a  golden  mericle  av  a 
voice  ut  was.)  "  Die  here,"  she  sez ;  an'  Love-o'- 
Women  dhropped  forward,  an'  she  hild  him  up,  for 
she  was  a  fine  big  woman. 

'  I  had  no  time  to  turn,  bekaze  that  minut  I  heard 
the  sowl  quit  him — tore  out  in  the  death-rattle — an' 


'LOVE-O'- WOMEN.'  323 

she  laid  him  back  in  a  long  chair,  an'  she  sez  to  me, 
"Misther  soldier/'  she  sez,  "will  ye  not  go  in  an' 
talk  to  wan  av  the  girls.  This  sun's  too  much  for 
him." 

*  Well  I  knew  there  was  no  sun  he'd  iver  see,  but 
I  cud  not  spake,  so  I  wint  away  wid  the  empty  dooli 
to  find  the  docthor.  He'd  been  breakfastin'  an' 
lunchin'  ever  since  we'd  come  in,  an'  he  was  as  full 
as  a  tick. 

' "  Faith  ye've  got  dhrunk  mighty  soon,"  he  sez, 
whin  I'd  tould  him,  "  to  see  that  man  walk.  Barrin' 
a  puff  or  two  av  life,  he  was  a  corpse  before  we  left 
Jumrood.  I've  a  great  mind,"  he  sez,  "to  confine 
you." 

' "  There's  a  dale  av  liquor  runnin'  about,  doc- 
thor," I  sez,  solemn  as  a  hard-boiled  egg.  "  Maybe 
'tis  so,  but  will  ye  not  come  an'  see  the  corpse  at 
the  house  ?  " 

<"Tis  dishgraceful,"  he  sez,  "that  I  would  be 
expected  to  go  to  a  place  like  that.  Was  she  a  pretty 
woman  ?  "  he  sez,  an'  at  that  he  set  off  double  quick. 

'I  cud  see  that  the  two  was  in  the  veranda 
where  I'd  left  them,  an'  I  knew  by  the  hang  av  her 
head  an'  the  noise  av  the  crows  f  what  had  happened. 
'Twas  the  first  and  the  last  time  that  I'd  ever  known 
woman  to  use  the  pistol.  They  dread  the  shot  as  a 
rule,  but  Di'monds-an'-Pearls  she  did  not — she  did 
not. 

'  The  docthor  touched  the  long  black  hair  av  her 


324  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

head  ('twas  all  loose  upon  Love-o'- Women's  chest), 
an'  that  cleared  the  liquor  out  av  him.  He  stud  con- 
sidherin'  a  long  time,  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  an'  at 
last  he  sez  to  me,  "Here's  a  double  death  from 
naturil  causes,  most  naturil  causes ;  an'  in  the  pres- 
int  state  av  affairs  the  rig'rnint  will  be  thankful  for 
wan  grave  the  less  to  dig.  Issiwasti"  he  sez,  "Issi- 
wasti,  Privit  Mulvaney,  these  two  will  be  buried 
together  in  the  Civil  Cemet'ry  at  my  expinse,  an' 
may  the  good  God,"  he  sez, "  make  it  so  much  for 
me  whin  my  time  comes.  Go  you  to  your  wife,"  he 
sez ;  "  go  an'  be  happy.  I'll  see  to  this  all." 

*  I  left  him  still  considherin'.  They  was  buried 
in  the  Civil  Cemet'ry  together,  wid  a  Church  of 
England  service.  There  was  too  many  buryin's  thin 
to  ask  questions,  an'  the  docthor — he  ran  away  wid 
Major — Major  Van  Dyce's  lady  that  year — he  saw  to 
ut  all.  Fwhat  the  right  an'  the  wrong  av  Love-o'- 
Women  an'  Di?monds-an'-Pearls  was  I  niver  knew, 
an'  I  will  niver  know ;  but  I've  tould  ut  as  I  came 
acrost  ut — here  an'  there  in  little  pieces.  So,  being 
fwhat  I  am,  an'  knowin'  f what  I  knew,  that's  fwhy  I 
say  in  this  shootin'  case  here,  Mackie's  that  dead  an' 
in  hell  is  the  lucky  man.  There  are  times,  sorr, 
whin  'tis  better  for  the  man  to  die  than  to  live,  an' 
by  consequince  forty  million  times  betther  for  the 
woman.' 

'  H'up  there ! '  said  Ortheris.    '  It's  time  to  go.' 


'LOVE-O'-  WOMEN.'  325 

The  witnesses  and  guard  formed  up  in  the  thick 
•white  dust  of  the  parched  twilight  and  swung  off, 
marching  easy  and  whistling.  Down  the  road  to  the 
green  by  the  church  I  could  hear  Ortheris,  the  black 
Book-lie  still  uncleansed  on  his  lips,  setting,  with  a 
fine  sense  of  the  fitness  of  things,  the  shrill  quick- 
step that  runs — 

'  Oh,  do  not  despise  the  advice  of  the  wise, 

Learn  wisdom  from  those  that  are  older, 
And  don't  try  for  things  that  are  out  of  your  reach — 
An'  that's  what  the  Girl  told  the  Soldier ! 

Soldier !  soldier ! 
Oh,  that's  what  the  Girl  told  the  Soldier  t ' 


THE  RECORD  OF  BADALIA  HERODSFOOT. 

The  year's  at  the  spring 

And  day's  at  the  dawn ; 

Morning's  at  seven ; 

The  hill-side's  dew-pearled ; 

The  lark's  on  the  wing ; 

The  snail's  on  the  thorn : 

God's  in  his  heaven — 

All's  right  with  the  world ! — Pippa  Passes. 

THIS  is  not  that  Badalia  whose  spare  names  were 
Joanna,  Pugnacious,  and  M'Canna,  as  the  song  says, 
but  another  and  much  nicer  lady. 

In  the  beginning  of  things  she  had  been  unre- 
generate ;  had  worn  the  heavy  fluffy  fringe  which  is 
the  ornament  of  the  costermonger's  girl,  and  there  is 
a  legend  in  Gunnison  Street  that  on  her  wedding- 
day  she,  a  flare-lamp  in  either  hand,  danced  dances 
on  a  discarded  lover's  winkle-barrow,  till  a  police- 
man interfered,  and  then  Badalia  danced  with  the 
Law  amid  shoutings.  Those  were  her  days  of  fat- 
ness, and  they  did  not  last  long,  for  her  husband 
after  two  years  took  to  himself  another  woman,  and 
passed  out  of  Badalia's  life,  over  Badalia's  senseless 

Copyright,  1893,  by  D.  Appleton  &  Co. 


THE  RECORD   OF  BADALIA  HERODSFOOT.      327 

body ;  for  lie  stifled  protest  with  Wows.  While  she 
was  enjoying  her  widowhood  the  baby  that  the  hus- 
band had  not  taken  away  died  of  croup,  and  Badalia 
was  altogether  alone.  With  rare  fidelity  she  listened 
to  no  proposals  for  a  second  marriage  according  to 
the  customs  of  Gunnison  Street,  which  do  not  differ 
from  those  of  the  Barralong.  'My  man/  she  ex- 
plained to  her  suitors, '  Vll  come  back  one  o'  these 
days,  an'  then,  like  as  not,  Vll  take  an'  kill  me  if  I 
was  livin'  'long  o'  you.  You  don't  know  Tom ;  I  do. 
Now  you  go.  I  can  do  for  myself — not  'avin'  a  kid.' 
She  did  for  herself  with  a  mangle,  some  tending  of 
babies,  and  an  occasional  sale  of  flowers.  This  latter 
trade  is  one  that  needs  capital,  and  takes  the  vendor 
very  far  westward,  in  so  much  that  the  return  jour- 
ney from,  let  us  say,  the  Burlington  Arcade  to  Gun- 
nison Street,  E.,  is  an  excuse  for  drink,  and  then,  as 
Badalia  pointed  out,  'You  come  'ome  with  your 
shawl  arf  off  of  your  back,  'an  your  bonnick  under 
your  arm,  and  the  price  of  nothing-at-all  in  your 
pocket,  let  alone  a  slop  takin'  care  o'  you.'  Badalia 
did  not  drink,  but  she  knew  her  sisterhood,  and  gave 
them  rude  counsel.  Otherwise  she  kept  herself  to 
herself,  and  meditated  a  great  deal  upon  Tom 
Herodsfoot,  her  husband,  who  would  come  back 
some  day,  and  the  baby  that  would  never  return. 
In  what  manner  these  thoughts  wrought  upon  her 
mind  will  not  be  known. 

Her  entry  into  society  dates  from  the  night  when 


328  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

she  rose  literally  under  the  feet  of  the  Reverend 
Eustace  Hanna,  on  the  landing  of  No.  17  Gunnison 
Street,  and  told  him  that  he  was  a  fool,  without  dis- 
cernment in  the  dispensation  of  his  district  charities. 

'  You  give  Lascar  Loo  custids,'  said  she,  without 
the  formality  of  introduction ;  '  give  her  pork-wine. 
Garn !  Give  'er  blankits.  Garn  'ome !  'Er  mother, 
she  eats  'em  all,  and  drinks  the  blankits.  Gits  'em 
back  from  the  shop,  she  does,  before  you  come  visit- 
ing again,  so  as  to  'ave  'em  all  handy  an'  proper ;  an' 
Lascar  Loo  she  sez  to  you,  "  Oh,  my  mother's  that 
good  to  me ! "  she  do.  Lascar  Loo  'ad  better  talk  so, 
bein'  sick  abed,  'r  else  'er  mother  would  kill  'er. 
Garn !  you're  a  bloomin'  gardener — you  an'  yer 
custids !  Lascar  Loo  don't  never  smell  of  'em  even.' 

Thereon  the  curate,  instead  of  being  offended, 
recognised  in  the  heavy  eyes  under  the  fringe  the 
soul  of  a  fellow-worker,  and  so  bade  Badalia  mount 
guard  over  Lascar  Loo,  when  the  next  jelly  or  custard 
should  arrive,  to  see  that  the  invalid  actually  ate  it. 
This  Bedalia  did,  to  the  disgust  of  Lascar  Loo's 
mother,  and  the  sharing  of  a  black  eye  between  the 
three ;  but  Lascar  Loo  got  her  custard,  and  coughing 
heartily,  rather  enjoyed  the  fray. 

Later  on,  partly  through  the  Reverend  Eustace 
Hanna's  swift  recognition  of  her  uses,  and  partly 
through  certain  tales  poured  out  with  moist  eyes 
and  flushed  cheeks  by  Sister  Eva,  youngest  and 
most  impressionable  of  the  Little  Sisters  of  the  Red 


THE  EECOED   OF  BADALIA  HEKODSFOOT.      329 

Diamond,  it  came  to  pass  that  Badalia,  arrogant, 
fluffy-fringed,  and  perfectly  unlicensed  in  speech, 
won  a  recognised  place  among  such  as  labour  in 
Gunnison  Street. 

These  were  a  mixed  corps,  zealous  or  hysterical, 
faint-hearted  or  only  very  wearied  of  battle  against 
misery,  according  to  their  lights.  The  most  part 
were  consumed  with  small  rivalries  and  personal 
jealousies,  to  be  retailed  confidentially  to  their  own 
tiny  cliques  in  the  pauses  between  wrestling  with 
death  for  the  body  of  a  moribund  laundress,  or 
scheming  for  further  mission-grants  to  resole  a  con- 
sumptive compositor's  very  consumptive  boots. 
There  was  a  rector  that  lived  in  dread  of  pauperis- 
ing the  poor,  would  fain  have  held  bazaars  for  fresh 
altar-cloths,  and  prayed  in  secret  for  a  new  large 
brass  bird,  with  eyes  of  red  glass,  fondly  believed  to 
be  carbuncles.  There  was  Brother  Victor,  of  the 
Order  of  Little  Ease,  who  knew  a  great  deal  about 
altar-cloths  but  kept  his  knowledge  in  the  back- 
ground while  he  strove  to  propitiate  Mrs.  Jessel,  the 
Secretary  of  the  Tea  Cup  Board,  who  had  money  to 
dispense  but  hated  Rome — even  though  Rome  would, 
on  its  honour,  do  no  more  than  fill  the  stomach, 
leaving  the  dazed  soul  to  the  mercies  of  Mrs.  Jessel. 
There  were  all  the  Little  Sisters  of  the  Red  Diamond, 
daughters  of  the  horseleech,  crying  'Give*  when 
their  own  charity  was  exhausted,  and  pitifully  ex- 
plaining to  such  as  demanded  an  account  of  their 


330  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

disbursements  in  return  for  one  half-sovereign,  that 
relief  work  in  a  bad  district  can  hardly  be  systema- 
tised  on  the  accounts'  side  without  expensive  dupli- 
cation of  staff.  There  was  the  Reverend  Eustace 
Hanna  who  worked  impartially  with  Ladies'  Com- 
mittees, Androgynous  Leagues  and  Guilds,  Brother 
Victor,  and  anybody  else  who  could  give  him  money, 
boots,  or  blankets,  or  that  more  precious  help  that 
allows  itself  to  be  directed  by  those  who  know. 
And  all  these  people  learned,  one  by  one,  to  consult 
Badalia  on  matters  of  personal  character,  right  to 
relief,  and  hope  of  eventual  reformation  in  Gunni- 
son  Street.  Her  answers  were  seldom  cheering,  but 
she  possessed  special  knowledge  and  complete  con- 
fidence in  herself. 

'  I'm  Gunnison  Street,'  she  said  to  the  austere 
Mrs.  Jessel.    '  I  know  what's  what,  I  do,  an'  they 

don't  want  your  religion,  Mum,  not  a  single . 

Excuse  me.  It's  all  right  when  they  comes  to  die, 
Mum,  but  till  they  die  what  they  wants  is  things  to 
eat.  The  men  they'll  shif '  for  themselves.  That's 
why  Nick  Lapworth  sez  to  you  that  'e  wants  to  be 
confirmed  an'  all  that.  'E  won't  never  lead  no  new 
life,  nor  'is  wife  won't  get  no  good  out  o'  all  the 
money  you  gives  'im.  No  more  you  can't  pauperise 
them  as  'asn't  things  to  begin  with.  They're 
bloomin'  well  pauped  !  The  women  they  can't  shif 
for  themselves — 'specially  bein'  always  confined. 
'Ow  should  they  ?  They  wants  things  if  they  can 


THE  RECORD   OF  BADALIA  HERODSFOOT.      331 

get  'em  anyways.  If  not  they  dies,  and  a  good  job 
too,  for  women  is  cruel  put  upon  in  Gunnison 
Street.' 

1  Do  you  believe  that — that  Mrs.  Herodsfoot  is 
altogether  a  proper  person  to  trust  funds  to  ? '  said 
Mrs.  Jessel  to  the  curate  after  this  conversation. 
'  She  seems  to  be  utterly  godless  in  her  speech  at 
least.' 

The  curate  agreed.  She  was  godless  according  to 
Mrs.  JesseFs  views,  but  did  not  Mrs.  Jessel  think 
that  since  Badalia  knew  Gunnison  Street  and  its 
needs,  as  none  other  knew  it,  she  might  in  a  humble 
way  be,  as  it  were,  the  scullion  of  charity  from 
purer  sources,  and  that  if,  say,  the  Tea  Cup  Board 
could  give  a  few  shillings  a  week,  and  the  Little 
Sisters  of  the  Red  Diamond  a  few  more,  and,  yes,  he 
himself  could  raise  yet  a  few  more,  the  total,  not  at 
all  likely  to  be  excessive,  might  be  handed  over  to 
Badalia  to  dispense  among  her  associates.  Thus 
Mrs.  Jessel  herself  would  be  set  free  to  attend  more 
directly  to  the  spiritual  wants  of  certain  large- 
limbed  hulking  men  who  sat  picturesquely  on  the 
lower  benches  of  her  gatherings  and  sought  for 
truth — which  is  quite  as  precious  as  silver,  when 
you  know  the  market  for  it. 

'  She'll  favour  her  own  friends/  said  Mrs.  Jessel. 
The  curate  refrained  from  mirth,  and,  after  wise 
flattery,  carried  his  point.  To  her  unbounded  pride 

Badalia  was  appointed  the  dispenser  of  a  grant — a 
22 


332  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

weekly  trust,  to  be  held  for  tlie  benefit  of  Gunnison 
Street. 

'I  don't  know  what  we  can  get  together  each 
week/  said  the  curate  to  her.  *  But  here  are  seven- 
teen shillings  to  start  with.  You  do  what  you  like 
with  them  among  your  people,  only  let  me  know 
how  it  goes  so  that  we  shaVt  get  muddled  in  the  ac- 
counts. D'you  see  ?  " 

'  Ho  yuss !  'Tain't  much,  though,  is  it  ? '  said 
Badalia,  regarding  the  white  coins  in  her  palm. 
The  sacred  fever  of  the  administrator,  only  known 
to  those  who  have  tasted  power,  burned  in  her  veins. 
'Boots  is  boots,  unless  they're  give  you,  an'  then 
they  ain't  fit  to  wear  unless  they're  mended  top  an' 
bottom ;  an'  jellies  is  jellies ;  an'  I  don't  think  any- 
thing o'  that  cheap  pork-wine,  but  it  all  conies  to 
something.  It'll  go  quicker  'n  a  quartern  of  gin — 
seventeen  bob.  An'  I'll  keep  a  book — same  as  I 
used  to  do  before  Tom  went  an'  took  up  'long  o'  that 
pan-faced  slut  in  Hennessy's  Rents.  We  was  the 
only  barrer  that  kep'  regular  books,  me  an' — 'im.' 

She  bought  a  large  copy-book — her  unschooled 
handwriting  demanded  room — and  in  it  she  wrote 
the  story  of  her  war ;  boldly,  as  befits  a  general,  and 
for  no  other  eyes  than  her  own  and  those  of  the 
Reverend  Eustace  Hanna.  Long  ere  the  pages  were 
full  the  mottled  cover  had  been  soaked  in  kerosene 
— Lascar  Loo's  mother,  defrauded  of  her  percentage 
on  her  daughter's  custards,  invaded  Badalia's  room 


THE  RECORD  OF  BADALIA  HERODSFOOT.   333 

in  17  Gunnison  Street,  and  fought  with  her  to  the 
damage  of  the  lamp  and  her  own  hair.  It  was  hard, 
too,  to  carry  the  precious  '  pork-wine '  in  one  hand 
and  the  book  in  the  other  through  an  eternally 
thirsty  land ;  so  red  stains  were  added  to  those  of 
the  oil.  But  the  Reverend  Eustace  Hanna,  looking 
at  the  matter  of  the  book,  never  objected.  The  gen- 
erous scrawls  told  their  own  tale,  Badalia  every 
Saturday  night  supplying  the  chorus  between  the 
written  statements  thus : — 

Mrs.  Hikkey,  very  ill  brandy  3d.  Cab  for  hospi- 
tal, she  had  to  go,  Is.  Mrs.  Poone  confined.  In 
money  for  tea  (she  took  it  I  know,  sir)  Qd.  Met  her 
husband  out  looking  for  work. 

'I  slapped  'is  face  for  a  bone-idle  beggar!  'E 
won't  get  no  work  tins  side  o' — excuse  me,  sir. 
Won't  you  go  on  ? '  The  curate  continued — 

Mrs.  Vincent.  Confid.  No  linning  for  baby. 
Most  untidy.  In  money  2s.  Qd.  Some  clothes  from 
Miss  Evva. 

'  Did  Sister  Eva  do  that  ? '  said  the  curate  very 
softly.  Now  charity  was  Sister  Eva's  bounden 
duty,  yet  to  one  man's  eyes  each  act  of  her  daily  toil 
was  a  manifestation  of  angelic  grace  and  goodness — 
a  thing  to  perpetually  admire. 

'  Yes,  sir.  She  went  back  to  the  Sisters'  'Ome  an* 
took  'em  off  'er  own  bed.  Most  beautiful  marked 
too.  Go  on,  sir.  That  makes  up  four  and  thrup- 
pence.' 


334  MANY  INVENTIONS. 

Mrs.  Junnet  to  keep  good  fire  coah  is  up.    7d. 

Mrs.  Lockhart  took  a  baby  to  nurse  to  earn  a 
iriffle  but  mother  can'd  pay  husband  summons  over 
and  over.  He  won't  help.  Cash  2s.  2d.  Worked  in 
a  ketchin  but  had  to  leave.  Fire,  tea,  and  shin  of 
beef  Is.  7%d. 

'  There  was  a  fight  there,  sir/  said  Badalia.  '  Not 
me,  sir.  'Er  'usband,  o'  course  'e  come  in  at  the 
wrong  time,  was  wishful  to  'ave  the  beef,  so  I  calls 
up  the  next  floor  an'  down  comes  that  mulatter  man 
wot  sells  the  sword-stick  canes,  top  o'  Ludgate-'ill. 
"  Muley,"  sez  I,  "  you  big  black  beast,  you,  take  an' 
kill  this  big  white  beast  'ere."  I  knew  I  couldn't 
stop  Tom  Lockart  'alf  drunk,  with  the  beef  in  'is 
'ands.  "  I'll  beef  'm,"  sez  Muley,  an'  'e  did  it,  with 
that  pore  woman  a-cryin'  in  .the  next  room,  an'  the 
top  banisters  on  that  landin'  is  broke  out,  but  she 
got  'er  beef -tea,  an'  Tom  'e's  got  'is  gruel.  Will  you 
go  on,  sir  ?  " 

'  No,  I  think  it  will  be  all  right.  I'll  sign  for  the 
week,"  said  the  curate.  One  gets  so  used  to  these 
things  profanely  called  human  documents. 

'Mrs.  Churner's  baby's  got  diptheery,'  said  Ba- 
dalia, turning  to  go. 

'  Where's  that  ?  The  Churners  of  Painter's  Alley, 
or  the  other  Churners  in  Houghton  Street  ?  " 

'Houghton  Street.  The  Painter's  Alley  people, 
they're  sold  'an  left.' 

'Sister  Eva's  sitting  one  night  a  week  with  old 


THE  RECORD   OF  BADALIA    HERODSFOOT.      335 

Mrs.  Probyn  in  Houghton  Street — isn't  she  ? '  said 
the  curate  uneasily. 

'  Yes;  but  she  won't  sit  no  longer.  I've  took  up 
Mrs.  Probyn.  I  can't  talk  'er  no  religion,  but  she 
don't  want  it;  an'  Miss  Eva  she  don't  want  no 
diptheery,  tho'  she  sez  she  does.  Don't  you  be 
afraid  for  Miss  Eva/ 

'  But — but  you'll  get  it,  perhaps.' 

'Like  as  not/  She  looked  the  curate  between 
the  eyes,  and  her  own  eyes  flamed  under  the  fringe. 
*  Maybe  I'd  like  to  get  it,  for  aught  you  know/ 

The  curate  thought  upon  these  words  for  a  little 
time  till  he  began  to  think  of  Sister  Eva  in  the 
gray  cloak  with  the  white  bonnet  ribbons  under  the 
chin.  Then  he  thought  no  more  of  Badalia. 

What  Badalia  thought  was  never  expressed  in 
words,  but  it  is  known  in  Gunnison  Street  that 
Lascar  Loo's  mother,  sitting  blind-drunk  on  her  own 
doorstep,  was  that  night  captured  and  wrapped  up  in 
the  war-cloud  of  Badalia's  wrath,  so  that  she  did  not 
know  whether  she  stood  on  her  head  or  her  heels, 
and  after  being  soundly  bumped  on  every  particular 
stair  up  to  her  room,  was  set  down  on  Badalia's  bed, 
there  to  whimper  and  quiver  till  the  dawn,  protest- 
ing that  all  the  world  was  against  her,  and  calling 
on  the  names  of  children  long  since  slain  by  dirt  and 
neglect.  Badalia,  snorting,  went  out  to  war,  and 
since  the  hosts  of  the  enemy  were  many,  found 
enough  work  to  keep  her  busy  till  the  dawn. 


336  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

As  she  had  promised,  she  took  Mrs.  Probyn  into 
her  own  care,  and  began  by  nearly  startling  the  old 
lady  into  a  fit  with  the  announcement  that '  there 
ain't  no  God  like  as  not,  an'  if  there  is  it  don't  matter 
to  you  or  me,  an'  any'ow  you  take  this  jelly.'  Sister 
Eva  objected  to  being  shut  off  from  her  pious  work 
in  Houghton  Street,  but  Badalia  insisted,  and  by 
fair  words  and  the  promise  of  favours  to  come  so 
prevailed  on  three  or  four  of  the  more  sober  men  of 
the  neighbourhood  that  they  blockaded  the  door 
whenever  Sister  Eva  attempted  to  force  an  entry, 
and  pleaded  the  diphtheria  as  an  excuse.  '  I've  got  to 
keep  'er  out  o'  'arm's  way/  said  Badalia, '  an'  out  she 

keeps.  The  curick  won't  care  a for  me,  but — 'e 

wouldn't  any'ow.' 

The  effect  of  that  quarantine  was  to  shift  the 
sphere  of  Sister  Eva's  activity  to  other  streets,  and 
notably  those  most  haunted  by  the  Reverend  Eustace 
Hanna  and  Brother  Victor,  of  the  Order  of  Little 
Ease.  There  exists,  for  all  their  human  bickerings, 
a  very  close  brotherhood  in  the  ranks  of  those  whose 
work  lies  in  Gunnison  Street.  To  begin  with,  they 
have  seen  pain — pain  that  no  word  or  deed  of  theirs 
can  alleviate — life  born  into  Death,  and  Death 
crowded  down  by  unhappy  life.  Also  they  under- 
stand the  full  significance  of  drink,  which  is  a  knowl- 
edge hidden  from  very  many  well-meaning  people, 
and  some  of  them  have  fought  with  the  beasts  at 
Ephesus.  They  meet  at  unseemly  hours  in  unseem- 


THE  RECORD  OF  BADALIA  HEROD3FOOT.   337 

ly  places,  exchange  a  word  or  two  of  hasty  counsel, 
advice,  or  suggestion,  and  pass  on  to  their  appointed 
toil,  since  time  is  precious  and  lives  hang  in  the 
balance  of  five  minutes.  For  many,  the  gas-lamps 
are  their  sun,  and'  the  Covent  Garden  wains  the 
chariots  of  the  twilight.  'They  have  all  in  their 
station  begged  for  money,  so  that  the  freemasonry 
of  the  mendicant  binds  them  together. 

To  all  these  influences  there  was  added  in  the 
case  of  two  workers  that  thing  which  men  have 
agreed  to  call  Love.  The  chance  of  Sister  Eva's 
catching  diphtheria  did  not  enter  into  the  cu- 
rate's head  till  Badalia  had  spoken.  Then  it  seemed 
a  thing  intolerable  and  monstrous  that  she  should 
be  exposed  not  only  to  this  risk,  but  any  accident 
whatever  of  the  streets.  A  wain  coming  round 
a  corner  might  kill  her;  the  rotten  staircases  on 
which  she  trod  daily  and  nightly  might  collapse  and 
maim  her;  there  was  danger  in  the  tottering  coping- 
stones  of  certain  crazy  houses  that  he  knew  well; 
danger  more  deadly  within  those  houses.  What  if 
one  of  a  thousand  drunken  men  crushed  out  that 
precious  life  ?  A  woman  had  once  flung  a  chair  at 
the  curate's  head.  Sister  Eva's  arm  would  not  be 
strong  enough  to  ward  off  a  chair.  There  were  also 
knives  that  were  apt  to  fly.  These  and  other  con- 
siderations cast  the  soul  of  the  Reverend  Eustace 
Hanna  into  torment,  that  no  leaning  upon  Provi- 
dence could  relieve.  God  was  indubitably  great  and 


338  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

terrible — one  had  only  to  walk  through  Gunnison 
Street  to  see  that  much — but  it  would  be  better, 
vastly  better,  that  Eva  should  have  the  protection  of 
his  own  arm.  And  the  world  that  was  not  too  busy 
to  watch  might  have  seen  a  woman,  not  too  young, 
light-haired  and  light-eyed,  slightly  assertive  in  her 
speech,  and  very  limited  in  such  ideas  as  lay  beyond 
the  immediate  sphere  of  her  duty,  where  the  eyes  of 
the  Reverend  Eustace  Hanna  turned  to  follow  the 
footsteps  of  a  Queen  crowned  in  a  little  gray  bonnet 
with  white  ribbons  under  the  chin. 

If  that  bonnet  appeared  for  a  moment  at  the 
bottom  of  a  court-yard,  or  nodded  at  him  on  a  dark 
staircase,  then  there  was  hope  yet  for  Lascar  Loo, 
living  on  one  lung  and  the  memory  of  past  excesses, 
hope  even  for  whining  sodden  Nick  Lapworth, 
blaspheming  in  the  hope  of  money  over  the  pangs  of 
a  ( true  conversion  this  time,  s'elp  me  Gawd,  sir.'  If 
that  bonnet  did  not  appear  for  a  day,  the  mind  of 
the  curate  was  filled  with  lively  pictures  of  horror, 
visions  of  stretchers,  a  crowd  at  some  villainous 
crossing,  and  a  policeman — he  could  see  that  police- 
man— jerking  out  over  his  shoulder  the  details  of 
the  accident,  and  ordering  the  man  who  would  have 
set  his  body  against  the  wheels — heavy  dray  wheels, 
he  could  see  them — to  '  move  on/  Then  there  was 
less  hope  for  the  salvation  of  Gunnison  Street  and 
all  in  it. 

This  agony  Brother  Victor  beheld  one  day  when 


THE  RECORD  OE  BADALIA  HERODSFOOT.   339 

he  was  coming  from  a  death-bed.  He  saw  the  light 
in  the  eye,  the  relaxing  muscles  of  the  mouth,  and 
heard  a  new  ring  in  the  voice  that  had  told  flat  all 
the  forenoon.  Sister  Eva  had  turned  into  Gunnison 
Street  after  a  forty-eight  hours'  eternity  of  absence. 
She  had  not  been  run  over.  Brother  Victor's  heart 
must  have  suffered  in  some  human  fashion,  or  he 
would  never  have  seen  what  he  saw.  But  the  Law 
of  his  Church  made  suffering  easy.  His  duty  was  to 
go  on  with  his  work  until  he  died,  even  as  Badalia 
went  on.  She,  magnifying  her  office,  faced  the 
drunken  husband ;  coaxed  the  doubly  shiftless, 
thriftless  girl-wife  into  a  little  forethought,  and 

begged  clothes  when  and  where  she  could  for  the 

i 

scrofulous  babes  that  multiplied  like  the  green  scum 
on  the  untopped  water  cisterns. 

The  story  of  her  deeds  was  written  in  the  book 
that  the  curate  signed  weekly,  but  she  never  told 
him  any  more  of  fights  and  tumults  in  the  street. 
'  Mis'  Eva  does  'er  work  'er  way.  I  does  mine  mine. 
But  I  do  more  than  Mis'  Eva  ten  times  over,  an' 
"Thank  yer,  Badalia,"  sez  'e,  "that'll  do  for  this 
week."  I  wonder  what  Tom's  doin'  now  long  o'  that 
— other  woman.  'Seems  like  as  if  I'd  go  an'  look  at 
'im  one  o'  these  days.  But  I'd  cut  'er  liver  out — 
couldn't  'elp  myself.  Better  not  go,  p'raps/ 

Hennessy's  Rents  lay  more  than  two  miles  from 
Gunnison  Street,  and  were  inhabited  by  much  the 
same  class  of  people/  Tom  had  established  himself 


340  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

there  with  Jenny  Wabstow,  his  new  woman,  and  for 
weeks  lived  in  great  fear  of  Badalia's  suddenly  de- 
scending upon  him.  The  prospect  of  actual  fighting 
did  not  scare  him:  but  he  objected  to  the  police- 
court  that  would  follow,  and  the  orders  for  mainte- 
nance and  other  devices  of  a  law  that  cannot  under- 
stand the  simple  rule  that '  when  a  man's  tired  of  a 
woman  'e  ain't  such  a  bloomin'  fool  as  to  live  with 
'er  no  more,  an'  that's  the  long  an'  short  of  it.'  For 
some  months  his  new  wife  wore  very  well,  and  kept 
Tom  in  a  state  of  decent  fear  and  consequent  order- 
liness. Also  work  was  plentiful.  Then  a  baby  was 
born,  and,  following  the  law  of  his  kind,  Tom,  little 
interested  in  the  children  he  helped  to  produce, 
sought  distraction  in  drink.  He  had  confined  him- 
self, as  a  rule,  to  beer,  which  is  stupefying  and  com- 
paratively innocuous :  at  least,  it  clogs  the  legs,  and 
though  the  heart  may  ardently  desire  to  kill,  sleep 
comes  swiftly,  and  the  crime  often  remains  undone. 
Spirits,  being  more  volatile,  allow  both  the  flesh  and 
the  soul  to  work  together — generally  to  the  incon- 
venience of  others.  Tom  discovered  that  there  was 
merit  in  whisky — if  you  only  took  enough  of  it — 
cold.  He  took  as  much  as  he  could  purchase  or  get 
given  him,  and  by  the  time  that  his  woman  was  fit 
to  go  abroad  again,  the  two  rooms  of  their  house- 
hold were  stripped  of  many  valuable  articles.  Then 
the  woman  spoke  her  mind,  not  once,  but  several 
times,  with  point,  fluency,  and  'metaphor ;  and  Tom 


THE  EECORD  OF  BADALIA  HERODSFOOT.   341 

was  indignant  at  being  deprived  of  peace  at  the  end 
of  his  day's  work,  which  included  much  whisky. 
He  therefore  withdrew  himself  from  the  solace  and 
companionship  of  Jenny  Wabstow,  and  she  there- 
fore pursued  him  with  more  metaphors.  At  the 
last,  Tom  would  turn  round  and  hit  her — sometimes 
across  the  head,  and  sometimes  across  the  breast, 
and  the  bruises  furnished  material  for  discussion  on 
doorsteps  among  such  women  as  had  been  treated 
in  like  manner  by  their  husbands.  They  were 
not  few. 

But  no  very  public  scandal  had  occurred  till  Tom 
one  day  saw  fit  to  open  negotiations  with  a  young 
woman  for  matrimony  according  to  the  laws  of  free 
selection.  He  was  getting  very  tired  of  Jenny,  and 
the  young  woman  was  earning  enough  from  flower- 
selling  to  keep  him  in  comfort,  whereas  Jenny  was 
expecting  another  baby  and  most  unreasonably  ex- 
pected consideration  on  this  account.  The  shape- 
lessness  of  her  figure  revolted  him,  and  he  said  as 
much  in  the  language  of  his  breed.  Jenny  cried  till 
Mrs.  Hart,  lineal  descendant,  .and  Irish  of  the 
'  mother  to  Mike  of  the  donkey-cart/  stopped  her  on 
her  own  staircase  and  whispered :  '  God  be  good  to 
you,  Jenny,  my  woman,  for  I  see  how  'tis  with  you.' 
Jenny  wept  more  than  ever,  and  gave  Mrs.  Hart  a 
penny  and  some  kisses,  while  Tom  was  conducting 
his  own  wooing  at  the  corner  of  the  street. 

The  young  woman,  prompted  by  pride,  not  by 


342  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

virtue,  told  Jenny  of  his  offers,  and  Jenny  spoke  to 
Tom  that  night.  The  altercation  began  in  their  own 
rooms,  but  Tom  tried  to  escape  ;  and  in  the  end  all 
Hennessy's  Rents  gathered  themselves  upon  the 
pavement  and  formed  a  court  to  which  Jenny  ap- 
pealed from  time  to  time,  her  hair  loose  on  her 
neck,  her  raiment  in  extreme  disorder,  and  her  steps 
astray  from  drink.  '  When  your  man  drinks,  you'd 
better  drink  too !  It  don't  'urt  so  much  when  'e  'its 
you  then/  says  the  Wisdom  of  the  Women.  And 
surely  they  ought  to  know. 

'  Look  at  'im ! '  shrieked  Jenny.  '  Look  at  'im, 
standin'  there  without  any  word  to  say  for  'imself, 
that  'ud  smitch  off  and  leave  me  an'  never  so  much 
as  a  shillin'  lef  be'ind !  You  call  yourself  a  man — 
you  call  yourself  the  bleedin'  shadow  of  a  man  ? 
I've  seen  better  men  than  you  made  outer  chewed 
paper  and  sput  out  arterwards.  Look  at  'im !  'E's 
been  drunk  since  Thursday  last,  an'  Vll  be  drunk  's 
long's  'e  can  get  drink.  'E's  took  all  I've  got,  an'  me 
— an'  me — as  you  see ' 

A  murmur  of  sympathy  from  the  women. 

'  Took  it  all,  'e  did,  an'  atop  of  'is  blasted  pick- 
in'  an'  stealin' — yes,  you,  you  thief — 'e  goes  off  an' 
tries  to  take  up  long  o'  that ' — here  followed  a  com- 
plete and  minute  description  of  the  young  woman. 
Luckily,  she  was  not  on  the  spot  to  hear.  "E'll 
serve  'er  as  'e  served  me !  'E'll  drink  every  bloom- 
in'  copper  she  makes  an'  then  leave  'er  go,  same 


TITE  EECOED   OF  BADALIA  HEKODSFOOT.      343 

as  'e  done  me !  O  women,  look  you,  I've  bore  'im 
one  an'  there's  another  on  the  way,  an'  'e'd  up  an' 
leave  me  as  I  am  now — the  stinkin'  dorg.  An'  you 
may  leave  me.  I  don't  want  none  o'  your  leavin's. 
Go  away.  Get  away  ! '  The  hoarseness  of  passion 
overpowered  the  voice.  The  crowd  attracted  a 
policeman  as  Tom  began  to  slink  away. 

'  Look  at  'im/  said  Jenny,  grateful  for  the  new 
listener.  '  Ain't  there  no  law  for  such  as  'im  ?  'E's 
took  all  my  money,  Vs  beat  me  once,  twice  an'  over. 
'E's  swine-drunk  when  'e  ain't  mad  drunk,  an'  now, 
an'  now  'e's  tryin'  to  pick  up  along  o'  another 
woman.  'Im  I  give  up  a  four  times  better  man  for. 
Ain't  there  no  law  ? ' 

*  What's  the  matter  now  ?  You  go  into  your 
'ouse.  I'll  see  to  the  man.  'As  'e  been  'itting  you  ? ' 
said  the  policeman. 

'  'Ittin'  me  ?  'E's  cut  my  'eart  in  two,  an'  'e 
stands  there  grinnin'  as  tho'  'twas  all  a  play  to  'im/ 

'  You  go  on  into  your  'ouse  an'  lie  down  a  bit/ 

'  I'm  a  married  woman,  I  tell  you,  an'  I'll  'ave  my 
'usband ! " 

'  I  ain't  done  'er  no  bloomin'  'arm/  said  Tom 
from  the  edge  of  the  crowd.  He  felt  that  public 
opinion  was  running  against  him. 

'  You  ain't  done  me  any  bloomin'  good,  you  dorg. 
I'm  a  married  woman,  I  am,  an'  I  won't  'ave  my  'us- 
band took  from  me.' 

'  Well,  if  you  are  a  married  woman,  cover  your 


844  MANY  INVENTIONS. 

breasts/  said  the  policeman  soothingly.  He  was 
used  to  domestic  brawls. 

'  Sha'n't — thank  you  for  your  impidence.  Look 
'ere ! '  She  tore  open  her  dishevelled  bodice  and 
showed  such  crescent-shaped  bruises  as  are  made  by 
a  well-applied  chair-back.  '  That's  what  'e  done  to 
me  acause  my  heart  wouldn't  break  quick  enough ! 
'E's  tried  to  get  in  an'  break  it.  Look  at  that,  Tom, 
that  you  gave  me  last  night ;  an'  I  made  it  up  with 
you.  But  that  was  before  I  knew  what  you  were 
tryin'  to  do  long  o'  that  woman — ' 

'  D'you  charge  'im  ? '  said  the  policeman.  '  'E'll 
get  a  month  for  it,  per'aps.' 

'  No,'  said  Jenny  firmly.  It  was  one  thing  to  ex- 
pose her  man  to  the  scorn  of  the  street,  and  another 
to  lead  him  to  jail. 

'  Then  you  go  in  an'  lie  down,  and  you ' — this  to 
the  crowd — '  pass  along  the  pavement,  there.  Pass 
along.  'Taint  nothing  to  laugh  at.'  To  Tom,  who 
was  being  sympathised  with  by  his  friends,  'It's 
good  for  you  she  didn't  charge  you,  but  mind  this 
now,  the  next  time,'  etc. 

Tom  did  not  at  all  appreciate  Jenny's  forbear- 
ance, nor  did  his  friends  help  to  compose  his  mind. 
He  had  whacked  the  woman  because  she  was  a  nui- 
sance. For  precisely  the  same  reason  he  had  cast 
about  for  a  new  mate.  And  all  his  kind  acts  had 
ended  in  a  truly  painful  scene  in  the  street,  a  most 
unjustifiable  exposure  by  and  of  his  woman,  and  a 


THE  EECORD   OF  BADALIA    HERODSFOOT.      345 

certain  loss  of  caste — this  lie  realised  dimly — among 
his  associates.  Consequently,  all  women  were  nui- 
sances, and  consequently  whisky  was  a  good  thing. 
His  friends  condoled  with  him.  Perhaps  he  had 
been  more  hard  on  his  woman  than  she  deserved, 
but  her  disgraceful  conduct  under  provocation  ex- 
cused all  offence. 

'  I  wouldn't  'ave  no  more  to  do  with  'er — a  woman 
like  that  there,'  said  one  comforter. 

*  Let  'er  go  an'  dig  for  her  bloomin'  self.  A  man 
wears  'isself  out  to  'is  bones  shovin'  meat  down  their 
mouths,  while  they  sit  at  'ome  easy  all  day ;  an'  the 
very  fust  time,  mark  you,  you  'as  a  bit  of  a  differ- 
ence, an'  very  proper  too  for  a  man  as  is  a  man,  she 
ups  an'  'as  you  out  into  the  street,  callin'  you  Gawd 
knows  what  all.  What's  the  good  o'  that,  I  arx 
you  ? '  So  spoke  the  second  comforter. 

The  whisky  was  the  third,  and  his  suggestion 
struck  Tom  as  the  best  of  all.  He  would  return  to 
Badalia  his  wife.  Probably  she  would  have  been 
doing  something  wrong  while  he  had  been  away, 
and  he  could  then  vindicate  his  authority  as  a  hus- 
band. Certainly  she  would  have  money.  Single 
women  always  seemed  to  possess  the  pence  that  God 
and  the  Government  denied  to  hard-working  men. 
He  refreshed  himself  with  more  whisky.  It  was  be- 
yond any  doubt  that  Badalia  would  have  done  some- 
thing wrong.  She  might  even  have  married  an- 
other man.  He  would  wait  till  the  new  husband 


346  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

was  out  of  the  way,  and,  after  kicking  Badalia, 
would  get  money  and  a  long  absent  sense  of  satis- 
faction. There  is  much  virtue  in  a  creed  or  a  law, 
but  when  all  is  prayed  and  suffered,  drink  is  the 
only  thing  that  will  make  clean  all  a  man's  deeds  in 
his  own  eyes.  Pity  it  is  that  the  effects  are  not 
permanent. 

Tom  parted  with  his  friends,  bidding  them  tell 
Jenny  that  he  was  going  to  Gunnison  Street,  and 
would  return  to  her  arms  no  more.  Because  this 
was  the  devil's  message,  they  remembered  and  sever- 
ally delivered  it,  with  drunken  distinctness,  in 
Jenny's  ears.  Then  Tom  took  more  drink  till  his 
drunkenness  rolled  back  and  stood  off  from  him  as 
a  wave  rolls  back  and  stands  off  the  wreck  it  will 
swamp.  He  reached  the  traffic-polished  black  as- 
phalte  of  a  side  street  and  trod  warily  among  the 
reflections  of  the  shop-lamps  that  burned  in  gulfs  of 
pitchy  darkness,  fathoms  beneath  his  boot-heels. 
He  was  very  sober  indeed.  Looking  down  his  past, 
he  beheld  that  he  was  justified  of  all  his  actions  so 
entirely  and  perfectly  that  if  Badalia  had  in  his 
absence  dared  to  lead  a  blameless  life  he  would 
smash  her  for  not  having  gone  wrong. 

Badalia  at  that  moment  was  in  her  own  room 
after  the  regular  nightly  skirmish  with  Lascar  Loo's 
mother.  To  a  reproof  as  stinging  as  a  Gunnison 
Street  tongue  could  make  it,  the  old  woman,  detected 
for  the  hundredth  time  in  the  theft  of  the  poor 


THE  EECOED  OF  BADALIA.  HEEODSFOOT.   347 

delicacies  meant  for  the  invalid,  could  only  cackle 
and  answer — 

*  D'you  think  Loo's  never  bilked  in  'er  life  ? 
She's  dyin'  now — on'y  she's  so  cnnning  long  about 
it.  Me !  I'll  live  for  twenty  years  yet/ 

Badalia  shook  her,  more  on  principle  than  in  any 
hope  of  curing  her,  and  thrust  her  into  the  night, 
where  she  collapsed  on  the  pavement  and  called 
upon  the  Devil  to  slay  Badalia. 

He  came  upon  the  word  in  the  shape  of  a  man 
with  a  very  pale  face  who  asked  for  her  by  name. 
Lascar  Loo's  mother  remembered.  It  was  Badalia's 
husband — and  the  return  of  a  husband  to  Gunnison 
Street  was  generally  followed  by  beatings. 

'  Where's  my  wife  ? '  said  Tom.  '  Where's  my 
slut  of  a  wife  ? ' 

'  Upstairs  an'  be to  her/  said  the  old  woman, 

falling  over  on  her  side.  '  'Ave  you  come  back  for 
'er,  Tom  ? ' 

'  Yes.    'Go's  she  took  up  while  I've  bin  gone  ? ' 

'All  the  bloomin'  curicks  in  the  parish.  She's 
that  set  up  you  wouldn't  know  'er/ 

'  'Strewth  she  is ! ' 

'  Oh,  yuss.  Mor'en  that,  she's  always  round  an* 
about  with  them  sniffin'  Sisters  o'  Charity  an*  the 
curick.  Mor'en  that,  'e  gives  'er  money — pounds  an' 
pounds  a  week.  Been  keepin'  her  that  way  for 
months, 'e  'as.  No  wonder  you  wouldn't  'ave  nothin' 

to  do  with  'er  when  you  left.    An'  she  keeps  me 
23 


348  MANY  INVENTIONS. 

outer  the  food-stuff  they  gets  for  me  lyin'  dyin'  out 
'ere  like  a  dorg.  She's  been  a  blazin'  bad  un  has 
Badalia  since  you  lefY 

'  Got  the  same  room  still,  'as  she  ? '  said  Tom, 
striding  over  Lascar  Loo's  mother,  who  was  picking 
at  the  chinks  between  the  pave-stones. 

'  Yes,  but  so  fine  you  wouldn't  know  it/ 

Tom  went  up  the  stairs  and  the  old  lady  chuckled. 
Tom  was  angry.  Badalia  would  not  be  able  to  bump 
people  for  some  time  to  come,  or  to  interfere  with 
the  heaven-appointed  distribution  of  custards. 

Badalia,  undressing  to  go  to  bed,  heard  feet  on 
the  stair  that  she  knew  well.  Ere  they  stopped  to 
kick  at  her  door  she  had,  in  her  own  fashion,  thought 
over  very  many  things. 

'  Tom's  back/  she  said  to  herself.  *  An'  I'm  glad 
.  .  .  spite  o'  the  curick  an'  everythink/ 

She  opened  the  door,  crying  his  name. 

The  man  pushed  her  aside. 

'  I  don't  want  none  o'  your  kissin's  an'  slaveries. 
I'm  sick  of  'em/  said  he. 

'  You  ain't  'ad  so  many  neither  to  make  you  sick 
these  two  years  past/ 

'  I've  'ad  better.    Got  any  money  ? ' 

'  On'y  a  little— orful  little/ 

*  That's  a  —    -  lie,  and  you  know  it/ 

*  'Taint — and,  oh  Tom,  what's  the  use  o'  talkin' 
money  the  minute  you  come  back  ?    Didn't  you  like 
Jenny  ?    I  knowed  you  wouldn't/ 


THE  RECORD  OF  BADALIA  HERODSFOOT.   349 

'  Shut  your  'ead.  Ain't  you  got  enough  to  make 
a  man  drunk  fair  ? ' 

'You  don't  want  bein'  made  more  drunk  any. 
You're  drunk  a'ready.  You  come  to  bed,  Tom.' 

'To  you?' 

'  Ay,  to  me.     Ain't  I  nothin' — spite  o'  Jenny  ? ' 

She  put  out  her  arms  as  she  spoke.  But  the 
drink  held  Tom  fast. 

( Not  for  me/  said  he,  steadying  himself  against 
the  wall.  '  Don't  I  know  'ow  you've  been  goin'  on 
while  I  was  away,  yah  ! ' 

'Arsk  about!'  said  Badalia  indignantly,  draw- 
ing herself  together.  '  'Oo  sez  anythink  agin  me 
'ere?' 

'  'Oo  sez  ?  W'y,  everybody.  I  ain't  come  back 
more'n  a  minute  'fore  I  finds  you've  been  with  the 
curick  Gawd  knows  where.  Wot  curick  was  'e  ? ' 

'  The  curick  that's  'ere  always/  said  Badalia 
hastily.  She  was  thinking  of  anything  rather  than 
the  Rev.  Eustace  Hanna  at  that  moment.  Tom  sat 
down  gravely  in  the  only  chair  in  the  room.  Ba- 
dalia continued  her  arrangements  for  going  to  bed. 

'  Pretty  thing  that/  said  Tom, '  to  tell  your  own 
lawful  married  'usband — an'  I  guv  five  bob  for  the 
weddin'-ring.  Curick  that's  'ere  always !  Cool  as 
brass  you  are.  Ain't  you  got  no  shame  ?  Ain't  'e 
under  the  bed  now  ? ' 

'  Tom,  you're  bleedin'  drunk.  I  ain't  done  noth- 
in' to  be  'shamed  of.' 


350  MANY  INVENTIONS. 

•'You!  You  don't  know  wot  shame  is.  But  I 
ain't  come  'ere  to  mess  with  you.  Give  me  wot 
you've  got,  an'  then  I'll  dress  you  down  an'  go  to 
Jenny.' 

'  I  ain't  got  nothin'  'cept  some  coppers  an'  a  shil- 
lin'  or  so.' 

'  Wot's  that  about  the  curick  keepin'  you  on  five 
poun'  a  week  ? ' 

"Oo  told  you  that?' 

'  Lascar  Loo's  mother,  lyin'  on  the  pavemint  out- 
side, an'  more  honest  than  you'll  ever  be.  Give  me 
wot  you've  got ! ' 

Badalia  passed  over  to  a  little  shell  pincushion 
on  the  mantelpiece,  drew  thence  four  shillings  and 
threepence — the  lawful  earnings  of  her  mangle — and 
held  them  out  to  the  man  who  was  rocking  in  his 
chair  and  surveying  the  room  with  wide-opened 
rolling  eyes. 

'  That  ain't  five  poun'/  said  he  drowsily. 

'  I  ain't  got  no  more.  Take  it  an'  go — if  you 
won't  stay.' 

Tom  rose  slowly,  gripping  the  arms  of  the  chair. 
'  Wot  about  the  curick's  money  that  'e  guv  you  ? ' 
said  he.  '  Lascar  Loo's  mother  told  me.  You  give 
it  over  to  me  now,  or  I'll  make  you.' 

'  Lascar  Loo's  mother  don't  know  anything 
about  it.' 

'  She  do,  an'  more  than  you  want  her  to  know/ 

'  She  don't.    I've  bumped  the  'eart  out  of  'er,  and 


THE  EECOED   OF  BADALIA  HEEODSFOOT.      351 

I  can't  give  you  the  money.  Anytliin'  else  but  that, 
Tom,  an'  everythin'  else  but  that,  Tom,  I'll  give  will- 
in'  and  true.  'Taint  my  money.  Won't  the  dollar 
be  enough  ?  That  money's  my  trust.  There's  a 
book  along  of  it  too.' 

'  Your  trust  ?  Wot  are  you  doin'  with  any  trust 
that  your  'usband  don't  know  of  ?  You  an'  your 
trust !  Take  you  that ! ' 

Tom  stepped  towards  her  and  delivered  a  blow  of 
the  clenched  fist  across  the  mouth.  *  Give  me  wot 
you've  got,'  said  he,  in  the  thick  abstracted  voice  of 
one  talking  in  dreams. 

'  I  won't,'  said  Badalia,  staggering  to  the  wash- 
stand.  With  any  other  man  than  her  husband  she 
would  have  fought  savagely  as  a  wild  cat ;  but  Tom 
had  been  absent  two  years,  and,  perhaps,  a  little 
timely  submission  would  win  him  back  to  her. 
None  the  less,  the  weekly  trust  was  sacred. 

The  wave  that  had  so  long  held  back  descended 
on  Tom's  brain.  He  caught  Badalia  by  the  throat 
and  forced  her  to  her  knees.  It  seemed  just  to  him 
in  that  hour  to  punish  an  erring  wife  for  two  years 
of  wilful  desertion ;  and  the  more,  in  that  she  had 
confessed  her  guilt  by  refusing  to  give  up  the  wage 
of  sin. 

Lascar  Loo's  mother  waited  on  the  pavement 
without  for  the  sounds  of  lamentation,  but  none 
came.  Even  if  Tom  had  released  her  throat,  Badalia 
would  not  have  screamed. 


352  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

*  Give  it  up,  you  slut ! '  said  Tom.  '  Is  that  'ow 
you  pay  me  back  for  all  I've  done  ? ' 

'  I  can't.  'Taint  my  money.  Gawd  forgive  you, 

Tom,  for  wot  you're ,'  the  voice  ceased  as  the 

grip  tightened,  and  Tom  heaved  Badalia  against  the 
bed.  Her  forehead  struck  the  bed-post,  and  she 
sank,  half  kneeling  on  the  floor.  It  was  impossible 
for  a  self-respecting  man  to  refrain  from  kicking 
her:  so  Tom  kicked  with  the  deadly  intelligence 
born  of  whisky.  The  head  drooped  to  the  floor,  and 
Tom  kicked  at  that  till  the  crisp  tingle  of  hair  strik- 
ing through  his  nailed  boot  with  the  chill  of  cold 
water,  warned  him  that  it  might  be  as  well  to  de- 
sist. 

'  Where's  the  curick's  money,  you  kep'  woman  ?' 
he  whispered  in  the  blood-stained  ear.  But  there 
was  no  answer — only  a  rattling  at  the  door,  and  the 
voice  of  Jenny  Wabstow  crying  ferociously, '  Come 
out  o'  that,  Tom,  an'  come  'ome  with  me !  An'  you, 
Badalia,  I'll  tear  your  face  off  its  bones ! ' 

Tom's  friends  had  delivered  their  message,  and 
Jenny,  after  the  first  flood  of  passionate  tears,  rose 
up  to  follow  Tom,  and,  if  possible,  to  win  him  back. 
She  was  prepared  even  to  endure  an  exemplary 
whacking  for  her  performances  in  Hennessy's  Rents. 
Lascar  Loo's  mother  guided  her  to  the  chamber  of 
horrors,  and  chuckled  as  she  retired  down  the  stair- 
case. If  Tom  had  not  banged  the  soul  out  of  Ba- 
dalia, there  would  at  least  be  a  royal  fight  between 


THE   RECORD   OF  BADALIA   HERODSFOOT.      353 

that  Badalia  and  Jenny.  And  Lascar  Loo's  mother 
knew  well  that  Hell  has  no  fury  like  a  woman  fight- 
ing above  the  life  that  is  quick  in  her. 

Still  there  was  no  sound  in  the  street.  Jenny 
swung  back  the  unbolted  door,  to  discover  her  man 
stupidly  regarding  a  heap  by  the  bed.  An  eminent 
murderer  has  remarked  that  if  people  did  not  die  so 
untidily  most  men,  and  all  women,  would  commit  at 
least  one  murder  in  their  lives.  Tom  was  reflecting 
on  the  present  untidiness,  and  the  whisky  was  fight- 
ing with  the  clear  current  of  his  thoughts. 

*  Don't  make  that  noise/    he  said.      '  Come   in 
quick/ 

'  My  Gawd  ! '  said  Jenny,  checking  like  a  startled 
wild  beast.  '  Wot's  all  this  'ere  ?  You  ain't — ' 

*  Dunno.    'Spose  I  done  it.' 

'  Done  it !  You  done  it  a  sight  too  well  this 
time.' 

'  She  was  aggravating'  said  Tom  thickly,  drop- 
ping back  into  the  chair.  '  That  aggravatin'  you'd 
never  believe.  Livin'  on  the  fat  o'  the  land  among 
these  aristocratic  parsons  an'  all.  Look  at  them 
white  curtings  on  the  bed.  We  ain't  got  no  white 
curtings.  What  I  want  to  know  is — '  The  voice 
died  as  Badalia's  had  died,  but  from  a  different 
cause.  The  whisky  was  tightening  its  grip  after 
the  accomplished  deed,  and  Tom's  eyes  were  be- 
ginning to  close.  Badalia  on  the  floor  breathed 
heavily. 


354  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

'  No,  nor  like  to  'ave,'  said  Jenny.  '  You've  done 
for  'er  this  time.  You  go ! ' 

'Not  me.  She  won't  hurt.  Do  'er  good.  I'm 
goin'  to  sleep.  Look  at  those  there  clean  sheets! 
Aint  you  comin'  too  ? ' 

Jenny  bent  over  Badalia,  and  there  was  intelli- 
gence in  the  battered  woman's  eyes — intelligence  and 
much  hate. 

'  I  never  told  'im  to  do  such/  Jenny  whispered. 
'  'Twas  Tom's  own  doin' — none  o'  mine.  Shall  I  get 
'im  took,  dearie  ? ' 

The  eyes  told  their  own  story.  Tom,  who  was 
beginning  to  snore,  must  not  be  taken  by  the  Law. 

'  Go,'  said  Jenny.    '  Get  out !    Get  out  of  'ere.' 

'You — told — me — that — this  afternoon,'  said  the 
man  very  sleepily.  '  Lemme  go  asleep.' 

'  That  wasn't  nothing.  You'd  only  'it  me.  This 
time  it's  murder — murder — murder!  Tom,  you've 
killed  'er  now.'  She  shook  the  man  from  his  rest, 
and  understanding  with  cold  terror  filled  his  fuddled 
brain. 

'  I  done  it  for  your  sake,  Jenny,'  he  whimpered 
feebly,  trying  to  take  her  hand. 

'  You  killed  'er  for  the  money,  same  as  you  would 
ha'  killed  me.  Get  out  o'  this.  Lay  'er  on  the  bed 
first,  you  brute  ! ' 

They  lifted  Badalia  on  to  the  bed  and  crept  forth 
silently. 

'  I  can't  be  took  along  o'  you — and  if  you  was 


THE  RECORD  OF  BADALIA  HEEODSFOOT.   355 

took  you'd  say  I  made  you  do  it,  an'  try  to  get  me 
'anged.  Go  away — anywhere  outer  'ere/  said  Jenny, 
and  she  dragged  him  down  the  stairs. 

'  Goin'  to  look  for  the  curick  ? '  said  a  voice  from 
the  pavement.  Lascar  Loo's  mother  was  still  wait- 
ing patiently  to  hear  Badalia  squeal. 

'  Wot  curick  ? '  said  Jenny  swiftly.  There  was  a 
chance  of  salving  her  conscience  yet  in  regard  to  the 
bundle  upstairs. 

'  'Anna — 63  Roomer  Terrace — close  'ere,'  said  the 
old  woman.  She  had  never  been  favourably  re- 
garded by  the  curate.  Perhaps,  since  Badalia  had 
not  squealed,  Tom  preferred  smashing  the  man  to 
the  woman.  There  was  no  accounting  for  tastes. 

Jenny  thrust  her  man  before  her  till  they  reached 
the  nearest  main  road.  '  Go  away,  now,'  she  gasped. 
*  Go  off  anywheres,  but  don't  come  back  to  me.  I'll 
never  go  with  you  again ;  an',  Tom — Tom,  d'  yer  'ear 
me  ? — clean  your  boots.' 

Vain  counsel.  The  desperate  thrust  of  disgust 
which  she  bestowed  upon  him  sent  him  staggering 
face  down  into  the  kennel,  where  a  policeman  showed 
interest  in  his  welfare. 

"Took  for  a  common  drunk.  Gawd  send  they 
don't  look  at  'is  boots !  'Anna,  63  Roomer  Terrace ! ' 
Jenny  settled  her  hat  and  ran. 

The  excellent  housekeeper  of  the  Roomer  Cham- 
bers still  remembers  how  there  arrived  a  young  per- 
son, blue-lipped  and  gasping,  who  cried  only :  '  Ba- 


356  MANY  INVENTIONS. 

dalia,  17  Gunnison  Street.  Tell  the  curick  to  come 
at  once — at  once — at  once ! '  and  vanished  into  the 
night.  This  message  was  borne  to  the  Rev.  Eustace 
Hanna,  then  enjoying  his  beauty  sleep.  He  saw 
there  was  urgency  in  the  demand,  and  unhesitatingly 
knocked  up  Brother  Victor  across  the  landing.  As 
a  matter  of  etiquette,  Rome  and  England  divided 
their  cases  in  the  district  according  to  the  creeds  of 
the  sufferers ;  but  Badalia  was  an  institution,  and 
not  a  case,  and  there  was  no  district-relief  etiquette 
to  be  considered.  '  Something  has  happened  to  Ba- 
dalia/ the  curate  said, '  and  it's  your  affair  as  well  as 
mine.  Dress  and  come  along/ 

*  I  am  ready/  was  the  answer.    '  Is  there  any  hint 
of  what's  wrong  ? ' 

'  Nothing  beyond  a  runaway  knock  and  a  call.' 

*  Then  it's  a  confinement  or  a  murderous  assault. 
Badalia  wouldn't  wake  us  up  for  anything  less.    I'm 
qualified  for  both,  thank  God.' 

The  two  men  raced  to  Gunnison  Street,  for  there 
were  no  cabs  abroad,  and  under  any  circumstances  a 
cab  fare  means  two  days'  good  firing  for  such  as  are 
perishing  with  cold.  Lascar  Loo's  mother  had  gone 
to  bed,  and  the  door  was  naturally  on  the  latch. 
They  found  considerably  more  than  they  had  ex- 
pected in  Badalia's  room,  and  the  Church  of  Rome 
acquitted  itself  nobly  with  bandages,  while  the 
Church  of  England  could  only  pray  to  be  delivered 
from  the  sin  of  envy.  The  Order  of  Little  Ease, 


THE  KECOED  OF  BADALIA  HERODSFOOT.   357 

recognising  that  the  soul  is  in  most  cases  accessible 
through  the  body,  take  their  measures  and  train 
their  men  accordingly. 

'  She'll  do  now/  said  Brother  Victor,  in  a  whis- 
per. 'It's  internal  bleeding,  I  fear,  and  a  certain 
amount  of  injury  to  the  brain.  She  has  a  husband, 
of  course  ? ' 

'  They  all  have,  more's  the  pity.' 

'Yes,  there's  a  domesticity  about  these  injuries 
that  shows  their  origin/  He  lowered  his  voice. 
'  It's  a  perfectly  hopeless  business,  you  understand. 
Twelve  hours  at  the  longest/ 

Badalia's  right  hand  began  to  beat  on  the  counter- 
pane, palm  down. 

*  I  think  you  are  wrong/  said  the  Church  of  Eng- 
gland.    '  She  is  going/ 

*  No,  that's  not  picking  at  the  counterpane/  said 
the  Church  of  Rome.     '  She    wants  to  say  some- 
thing ;  you  know  her  better  than  I/ 

The  curate  bent  very  low. 

'  Send  for  Miss  Eva/  said  Badalia,  with  a  cough. 

'  In  the  morning.  She  will  come  in  the  morning/ 
said  the  curate,  and  Badalia  was  content.  Only  the 
Church  of  Rome,  who  knew  something  of  the  human 
heart,  knitted  his  brows  and  said  nothing.  After 
all,  the  law  of  his  order  was  plain.  His  duty  was  to 
watch  till  the  dawn  while  the  gray  worn  moon  went 
down. 

It  was  a  little  before  her  sinking  that  the  Rev. 


358  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

Eustace  Hanna  said,  '  Hadn't  we  better  send  for  Sis- 
ter Eva  ?  She  seems  to  be  going  fast.' 

Brother  Victor  made  no  answer,  but  as  early  as 
decency  allowed  there  came  one  to  the  door  of  the 
house  of  the  Little  Sisters  of  the  Red  Diamond  and 
demanded  Sister  Eva,  that  she  might  soothe  the  pain 
of  Badalia  Herodsfoot.  That  man,  saying  very 
little,  led  her  to  Gunnison  Street,  No.  17,  and  into 
the  room  where  Badalia  lay.  Then  he  stood  on  the 
landing,  and  bit  the  flesh  of  his  fingers  in  agony,  be- 
cause he  was  a  priest  trained  to  know,  and  knew 
how  the  hearts  of  men  and  women  beat  back  at 
the  rebound,  so  that  Love  is  born  out  of  horror,  and 
passion  declares  itself  when  the  soul  is  quivering 
with  pain. 

Badalia,  wise  to  the  last,  husbanded  her  strength 
till  the  coming  of  Sister  Eva.  It  is  generally  main- 
tained by  the  Little  Sisters  of  the  Red  Diamond  that 
she  died  in  delirium,  but  since  one  Sister  at  least 
took  a  half  of  her  dying  advice,  this  seems  unchari- 
table. 

She  tried  to  turn  feebly  on  the  bed,  and  the  poor 
broken  human  machinery  protested  according  to  its 
nature. 

Sister  Eva  started  forward,  thinking  that  she 
heard  the  dread  forerunner  of  the  death-rattle. 
Badalia  lay  still  conscious,  and  spoke  with  start- 
ling distinctness,  the  irrepressible  irreverence  of  the 
street-hawker,  the  girl  who  had  danced  on  the 


THE  EECOED  OF  BADALIA  HEEODSFOOT.   359 

winkle-barrow,  twinkling  in  her  one  available 
eye. 

'  Sounds  jest  like  Mrs.  Jessel,  don't  it  ?  Before 
she's  'ad  'er  lunch  an'  'as  been  talkin'  all  the  mornin' 
to  'er  classes.' 

Neither  Sister  Eva  nor  the  curate  said  anything. 
Brother  Victor  stood  without  the  door,  and  the 
breath  came  harshly  between  his  clenched  teeth, 
for  he  was  in  pain. 

'  Put  a  cloth  over  my  'ead,'  said  Badalia.  '  I've 
got  it  good,  an'  I  don't  want  Miss  Eva  to  see.  I 
ain't  pretty  this  time.' 

*  Who  was  it  ? '  said  the  curate. 

'Man  from  outside.  Never  seed  'im  no  more'n 
Adam.  Drunk,  I  s'pose.  S'elp  me  Gawd  that's 
truth !  Is  Miss  Eva  'ere  ?  I  can't  see  under  the 
towel.  I've  got  it  good,  Miss  Eva.  Excuse  my  not 
shakin'  'ands  with  you,  but  I'm  not  strong ;  an'  it's 
f ourpence  for  Mrs.  Imeny's  beef-tea,  an'  wot  you  can 
give  'er  for  baby-linning.  Allus  'avin  kids,  these 
people.  I  'adn't  oughter  talk,  for  my  'usband  'e 
never  come  nigh  me  these  two  years,  or  I'd  a-bin  as 
bad  as  the  rest ;  but  'e  never  come  nigh  me.  ...  A 
man  come  an  'it  me  over  the  'ead,  an'  'e  kicked  me, 
Miss  Eva;  so  it  was  just  the  same's  if  I  had  ha' 
had  a  'usband,  ain't  it  ?  The  book's  in  the  drawer, 
Mister  'Anna,  an'  it's  all  right,  an'  I  never  guv  up  a 
copper  o'  the  trust  money — not  a  copper.  You  look 
under  the  chist  o'  drawers — all  wot  isn't  spent  this 


360  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

week  is  there.  .  .  .  An',  Miss  Eva,  don't  you  wear 
that  gray  bonnick  no  more.  I  kep'  you  from  the 
diptheery,  an' — an'  I  didn't  want  to  keep  you  so,  but 
the  curick  said  it  'ad  to  be  done.  I'd  a  sooner  ha' 
took  up  with  'im  than  any  one,  only  Tom  he  come, 
an'  then — you  see,  Miss  Eva,  Tom  'e  never  come  nigh 
me  for  two  years,  nor  I  'aven't  seen  him  yet.  S'elp 

me ,  I  'aven't.  Do  you  'ear  ?  But  you  two  go 

along,  and  make  a  match  of  it.  I've  wished  other- 
ways  often,  but  o'  course  it  was  not  for  the  likes  o' 
me.  If  Tom  'ad  come  back,  which  'e  never  did,  I'd 
ha'  been  like  the  rest — sixpence  for  beef-tea  for  the 
baby,  an'  a  shilling  for  layin'  out  the  baby.  You've 
seen  it  in  the  books,  Mister  'Anna.  That's  what  it 
is ;  an'  o'  course,  you  couldn't  never  'ave  nothing  to  do 
with  me.  But  a  woman  she  wishes  as  she  looks,  an' 
never  you  'ave  no  doubt  about  'im,  Miss  Eva.  I've 
seen  it  in  'is  face  time  an'  agin — time  an'  agin.  .  .  . 
Make  it  a  four  pound  ten  funeral — with  a  pall.' 

It  was  a  seven  pound  fifteen  shilling  funeral,  and 
all  Gunnison  Street  turned  out  to  do  it  honour.  All 
but  two ;  for  Lascar  Loo's  mother  saw  that  a  power 
had  departed,  and  that  her  road  lay  clear  to  the  cus- 
tards. Therefore,  when  the  carriages  rattled  off,  the 
cat  on  the  door-step  heard  the  wail -of  the  dying 
prostitute  who  could  not  die — 

'  Oh,  mother,  mother,  won't  you  even  let  me  lick 
the  spoon  I ' 


JUDSON  AND  THE  EMPIRE. 

Gloriana !    The  Don  may  attack  us 
Whenever  his  stomach  be  fain  ; 
He  must  reach  us  before  he  can  rack  us  .  . 
And  where  are  the  galleons  of  Spain  ? 

DOBSON. 

ONE  of  the  many  beauties  of  a  democracy  is  its 
almost  superhuman  skill  in  developing  troubles 
with  other  countries  and  finding  its  honour  abraded 
in  the  process.  A  true  democracy  has  a  large  con- 
tempt for  all  other  lands  that  are  governed  by  Kings 
and  Queens  and  Emperors,  and  knows  little  and 
thinks  less  of  their  internal  affairs.  All  it  regards 
is  its  own  dignity,  which  is  its  King,  Queen,  and 
Knave.  So,  sooner  or  later,  an  international  differ- 
ence ends  in  the  common  people,  who  have  no  dig- 
nity, shouting  the  common  abuse  of  the  street, 
which  also  has  no  dignity,  across  the  seas  in  order 
to  vindicate  their  own  dignity.  The  consequences 
may  or  may  not  be  war,  but  the  chancos  do  not 
favour  peace. 

An  advantage  in  living  in  a  civilised  land  which 

Copyright,  1893,  by  D.  Appleton  &  Co. 


362  MANY  INVENTIONS. 

is  really  governed  lies  in  the  fact  that  all  the  Kings 
and  Queens  and  Emperors  of  the  continent  are  close- 
ly related  by  blood  or  marriage,  are,  in  fact,  one 
large  family.  A  wise  head  of  them  knows  that  what 
appears  to  be  a  studied  insult  may  be  no  more  than 
some  man's  indigestion  or  woman's  indisposition  to 
be  treated  as  such,  and  explained  in  quiet  talk. 
Again,  a  popular  demonstration,  headed  by  King 
and  Court,  may  mean  nothing  more  than  that  so-and- 
so's  people  are  out  of  hand  for  the  minute.  When 
a  horse  falls  to  kicking  in  a  hunt-crowd  at  a  gate, 
the  rider  does  not  dismount,  but  puts  his  open  hand 
behind  him,  and  the  others  draw  aside.  It  is  so 
with  the  rulers  of  men.  In  the  old  days  they  cured 
their  own  and  their  people's  bad  temper  with  fire  and 
slaughter ;  but  now  that  the  fire  is  so  long  of  range 
and  the  slaughter  so  large,  they  do  other  things, 
and  few  among  their  people  guess  how  much  they 
owe  in  mere  life  and  money  to  what  the  slang  of  the 
minute  calls  '  puppets '  and  '  luxuries.' 

Once  upon  a  time  there  was  a  little  Power,  the 
half-bankrupt  wreck  of  a  once  great  empire,  that 
lost  its  temper  with  England,  the  whipping-boy  of 
all  the  world,  and  behaved,  as  every  one  knows, 
most  scandalously.  But  it  is  not  generally  known 
that  that  Power  fought  a  pitched  battle  with  Eng- 
land and  won  a  glorious  victory.  The  trouble  be- 
gan with  the  people.  Their  own  misfortunes  had 
been  many,  and  for  private  rage  it  is  always  refresh- 


JUDSON   AND  THE  EMPIRE.  363 

ing  to  find  a  vent  in  public  swearing.  Their  nation- 
al vanity  had  been  deeply  injured,  and  they  thought 
of  their  ancient  glories  and  the  days  when  their 
fleets  had  first  rounded  the  Cape  of  Storms,  and 
their  own  newspapers  called  upon  Camoeus  and 
urged  them  to  extravagances.  It  was  the  gross, 
smooth,  sleek,  lying  England  that  was  checking 
their  career  of  colonial  expansion.  They  assumed 
at  once  that  their  ruler  was  in  league  with  that 
country,  and  consequently  they,  his  people,  would 
forthwith  become  a  Republic  and  colonially  ex- 
pand themselves  as  a  free  people  should.  This 
made  plain,  the  people  threw  stones  at  the  English 
Consuls  and  spat  at  English  ladies,  and  cut  off 
drunken  sailors  of  our  fleet  in  their  ports  and  ham- 
mered them  with  oars,  and  made  things  very  un- 
pleasant for  tourists  at  their  customs,  and  threat- 
ened awful  deaths  to  the  consumptive  invalids  at 
Madeira,  while  the  junior  officers  of  the  Army  drank 
fruit-extracts  and  entered  into  the  blood-curdling 
conspiracies  against  their  monarch,  all  with  the 
object  of  being  a  Republic.  Now  the  history  of  all 
the  South  American  Republics  shows  that  it  is  not 
good  that  Southern  Europeans  should  be  also  Re- 
publicans. They  glide  too  quickly  into  military 
despotism ;  and  the  propping  of  men  against  walls 
and  shooting  them  in  detachments  can  be  arranged 
much  more  economically  and  with  less  effect  on  the 
death-rate  by  a  hide-bound  monarchy.  Still  the 

24 


364  MANY  INVENTIONS. 

performances  of  the  Power  as  represented  by  its 
people  were  extremely  inconvenient.  It  was  the 
kicking  horse  in  the  crowd,  and  probably  the  rider 
explained  that  he  could  not  check  it.  The  people 
enjoyed  all  the  glory  of  war  with  none  of  the  risks, 
and  the  tourists  who  were  stoned  in  their  travels 
returned  stolidly  to  England  and  told  the  Times 
that  the  police  arrangements  of  foreign  towns  were 
defective. 

This  then  was  the  state  of  affairs  north  the  Line. 
South  it  was  more  strained,  for  there  the  Powers 
were  at  direct  issue:  England,  unable  to  go  back 
because  of  the  pressure  of  adventurous  children  be- 
hind her,  and  the  actions  of  far-away  adventurers 
who  would  not  come  to  heel,  but  offering  to  buy  out 
her  rival ;  and  the  other  Power,  lacking  men  or 
money,  stiff  in  the  conviction  that  three  hundred 
years  of  slave-holding  and  intermingling  with  the 
nearest  natives  gave  an  inalienable  right  to  hold 
slaves  and  issue  half-castes  to  all  eternity.  They 
had  built  no  roads.  Their  towns  were  rotting  under 
their  hands  ;  they  had  no  trade  worth  the  freight  of 
a  crazy  steamer,  and  their  sovereignty  ran  almost 
one  musket-shot  inland  when  things  were  peaceful. 
For  these  very  reasons  they  raged  all  the  more,  and 
the  things  that  they  said  and  wrote  about  the 
manners  and  customs  of  the  English  would  have 
driven  a  younger  nation  to  the  guns  with  a  long  red 
bill  for  wounded  honour. 


JTJDSON  AND   THE  EMPIEE.  365 

It  was  then  that  Fate  sent  down  in  a  twin-screw 
shallow-draft  gunboat,  designed  for  the  defence  of 
rivers,  of  some  two  hundred  and  seventy  tons  dis- 
placement, Lieutenant  Harrison  Edward  Judson,  to 
be  known  for  the  future  as  Bai-Jove-Judson.  His 
type  of  craft  looked  exactly  like  a  flat-iron  with  a 
match  stuck  up  in  the  middle ;  it  drew  five  feet  of 
water  or  less ;  carried  a  four-inch  gun  forward,  which 
was  trained  by  the  ship,  and,  on  account  of  its  per- 
sistent rolling,  was  to  live  in  three  degrees  worse 
than  a  torpedo-boat.  When  Judson  was  appointed 
to  take  charge  of  the  thing  on  her  little  trip  of  six 
or  seven  thousand  miles  southward,  his  first  remark 
as  he  went  to  look  her  over  in  dock  was, '  Bai  Jove, 
that  topmast  wants  staying  forward ! '  The  topmast 
was  a  stick  about  as  thick  as  a  clothes-prop,  but  the 
flat-iron  was  Judson's  first  command,  and  he  would 
not  have  exchanged  his  position  for  second  post  on 
the  Anson  or  the  Howe.  He  navigated  her,  under 
convoy,  tenderly  and  lovingly  to  the  Cape  (the  story 
of  the  topmast  came  with  him),  and  he  was  so  ab- 
surdly in  love  with  his  wallowing  wash-tub  when  he 
reported  himself,  that  the  Admiral  of  the  station 
thought  it  would  be  a  pity  to  kill  a  new  man  on  her, 
and  allowed  Judson  to  continue  in  his  unenvied 
rule. 

The  Admiral  visited  her  once  in  Simon's  Bay,  and 
she  was  bad,  even  for  a  flat-iron  gunboat,  strictly 
designed  for  river  and  harbour  defence.  She  sweated 


366  MAKY  INVENTIONS. 

clammy  drops  of  dew  between  decks  in  spite  of  a 
preparation  of  powdered  cork  that  was  sprinkled 
over  her  inside  paint.  She  rolled  in  the  long  Cape 
swell  like  a  buoy;  her  foc's'le  was  a  dog-kennel; 
Judson's  cabin  was  practically  tinder  the  water-line  ; 
not  one  of  her  dead-lights  could  ever  be  opened ;  and 
her  compasses,  thanks  to  the  influence  of  the  four- 
inch  gun,  were  a  curiosity  even  among  Admiralty 
compasses.  But  Bai-Jove-Judson  was  radiant  and 
enthusiastic.  He  had  even  contrived  to  fill  Mr. 
Davies,  the  second-class  engine-room  artificer,  who 
was  his  chief  engineer,  with  the  glow  of  his  passion. 
The  Admiral,  who  remembered  his  own  first  com- 
mand, when  pride  forbade  him  to  slacken  off  a 
single  rope  on  a  dewy  night,  and  he  had  racked  his 
rigging  to  pieces  in  consequence,  looked  at  the  flat- 
iron  keenly.  Her  fenders  were  done  all  over  with 
white  sennit,  which  was  truly  white ;  her  big  gun 
was  varnished  with  a  better  composition  than  the 
Admiralty  allowed ;  the  spare  sights  were  cased  as 
carefully  as  the  chronometers ;  the  chocks  for  spare 
spars,  two  of  them,  were  made  of  four-inch  Burma 
teak  carved  with  dragons'  heads  [that  was  one  result 
of  Bai-Jove-Judson's  experiences  with  the  Naval 
Brigade  in  the  Burmese  war],  the  bow-anchor  was 
varnished  instead  of  being  painted,  and  there  were 
charts  more  than  the  Admiralty  scale  supplied. 
The  Admiral  was  well  pleased,  for  he  loved  a  ship's 
husband — a  man  who  had  a  little  money  of  his  own 


JUDSON  AND  THE  EMPIEE.  367 

and  was  willing  to  spend  it  on  his  command.  Jud- 
son  looked  at  him  hopefully.  He  was  only  a  Junior 
Navigating  Lieutenant  under  eight  years'  standing. 
He  might  be  kept  in  Simon's  Bay  for  six  months, 
and  his  ship  at  sea  was  his  delight.  The  dream  of 
his  heart  was  to  enliven  her  dismal  official  gray  with 
a  line  of  gold-leaf  and  perhaps  a  little  scroll-work  at 
her  blunt  barge-like  bows. 

'  There's  nothing  like  a  first  command,  is  there  ? ' 
said  the  Admiral,  reading  his  thoughts.  *  You  seem 
to  have  rather  queer  compasses  though.  Better  get 
them  adjusted.' 

'  It's  no  use,  sir,'  said  Judson.  f  The  gun  would 
throw  out  the  Pole  itself.  But — but  I've  got  the 
hang  of  most  of  their  weaknesses/ 

'  Will  you  be  good  enough  to  lay  that  gun  over 
thirty  degrees,  please  ? '  The  gun  was  put  over. 
Round  and  round  and  round  went  the  needle  mer- 
rily, and  the  Admiral  whistled. 

*  You  must  have  kept  close  to  your  convoy  ? ' 

*  Saw  her  twice  between  here  and  Madeira,  sir/ 
said  Judson  with  a  flush,  for  he  resented  the  slur  on 
his  seamanship.    '  It's — it's  a  little  out  of  hand,  now, 
but  she'll  settle  down  after  a  while.' 

The  Admiral  went  over  the  side,  according  to  the 
rules  of  the  Service,  but  the  Staff-Captain  must  have 
told  the  other  men  of  the  squadron  in  Simon's  Bay, 
for  they  one  and  all  made  light  of  the  flat-iron  for 
many  days.  '  What  can  you  shake  out  of  her,  Jud- 


368  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

son  ? '  said  the  Lieutenant  of  the  Mongoose,  a  real 
white-painted,  ram-bow  gunboat  with  quick-firing 
guns,  as  he  came  into  the  upper  veranda  of  the 
little  naval  Club  overlooking  the  dockyard  one  hot 
afternoon.  It  is  in  that  Club  as  the  captains  come 
and  go  that  you  hear  all  the  gossip  of  all  the  Seven 
Seas. 

'  Ten  point  four,'  said  Bai-Jove- Judson. 

'  Ah !  That  was  on  her  trial  trip.  She's  too  deep 
by  the  head  now.  I  told  you  staying  that  topmast 
would  throw  her  out  of  trim/ 

'  You  leave  my  top-hamper  alone,'  said  Judson, 
for  the  joke  was  beginning  to  pall  on  him. 

*  Oh,  my  soul !  Listen  to  him.  Juddy's  top-ham- 
per !  Keate,  have  you  heard  of  the  flat-iron's  top- 
hamper  ?  You're  to  leave  it  alone.  Commodore 
Judson's  feelings  are  hurt.' 

Keate  was  the  Torpedo  Lieutenant  of  the  big 
Vortigerh,  and  he  despised  small  things.  '  His  top- 
hamper,'  said  he  slowly.  '  Oh,  ah  yes,  of  course. 
Juddy,  there's  a  shoal  of  mullet  in  the  bay,  and  I 
think  they're  foul  of  your  screws.  Better  go  down, 
or  they'll  carry  away  something.' 

"  I  don't  let  things  carry  away  as  a  rule.  You 
see  I've  no  Torpedo  Lieutenant  on  board,  thank 
God!' 

Keate  within  the  past  week  had  so  managed  to 
bungle  the  slinging  in  of  a  small  torpedo-boat  on 
the  Vortigern,  that  the  boat  had  broken  the  crutches 


JUDSON  AND   THE  EMPIRE.  369 

in  which  she  rested,  and  was  herself  being  repaired 
in  the  dockyard  under  the  Club  windows. 

'  One  for  you,  Keate.  Never  mind,  Juddy ;  you're 
hereby  appointed  dockyard-tender  for  the  next  three 
years,  and  if  you're  very  good  and  there's  no  sea  on, 
you  shall  take  me  round  the  harbour.  Waitabee- 
chee,  Commodore.  What'll  you  take  ?  Vanderhurn 
for  the  "  Cook  and  the  captain  bold,  And  the  mate  o' 
the  Nancy  brig,  And  the  bo'sun  tight "  [Juddy,  put 
that  cue  down  or  I'll  put  you  under  arrest  for  insult- 
ing the  lieutenant  of  the  real  ship]  "  And  the  mid- 
shipmite,  And  the  crew  of  the  captain's  gig." ' 

By  this  time  Judson  had  pinned  him  in  a  corner, 
and  was  prodding  him  with  the  half -butt.  The  Ad- 
miral's Secretary  entered,  and  saw  the  scuffle  from 
afar. 

'  Ouch !  Juddy,  I  apologise.  Take  that-er  top- 
mast of  yours  away !  Here's  the  man  with  the  bow- 
string. I  wish  I  were  a  staff-captain  instead  of  a 
bloody  lootenant.  Sperril  sleeps  below  every  night. 
That's  what  makes  Sperril  tumble  home  from  the 
waist  uppards.  Sperril,  I  defy  you  to  touch  me. 
I'm  under  orders  for  Zanzibar.  Probably  I  shall 
annex  it ! ' 

'  Judson,  the  Admiral  wants  to  see  you ! '  said 
the  Staff-Captain,  disregarding  the  scoffer  of  the 
Mongoose. 

'  I  told  you  you'd  be  a  dockyard-tender  yet, 
Juddy.  A  side  of  fresh  beef  to-morrow  and  three 


370  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

dozen  snapper  on  ice.  On  ice,  you  understand, 
Juddy  ? ' 

Bai-Jove-Judson  and  the  Staff -Captain  went  out 
together. 

'Now,  what  does  the  Admiral  want  with  Jud- 
son  ? '  said  Keate  from  the  bar. 

'  Don't  know.  Juddy's  a  damned  good  fellow, 
though.  I  wish  to  goodness  he  was  on  the  Mongoose 
with  us.' 

The  lieutenant  of  the  Mongoose  dropped  into  a 
chair  and  read  the  mail  papers  for  an  hour.  Then 
he  saw  Bai-Jove-Judson  in  the  street  and  shouted  to 
him.  Judson's  eyes  were  very  bright,  and  his  figure 
was  held  very  straight,  and  he  moved  joyously.  Ex- 
cept for  the  Lieutenant  of  the  Mongoose,  the  Club 
was  empty. 

'  Juddy,  there  will  be  a  beautiful  row,'  said  that 
young  man  when  he  had  heard  the  news  delivered 
in  an  undertone.  'You'll  probably  have  to  fight, 
and  yet  I  can't  see  what  the  Admiral's  thinking  of 

'  My  orders  are  not  to  fight  under  any  circum- 
stances,' said  Judson. 

'  Go-look-see  ?    That  all  ?    When  do  you  go  ? ' 

'  To-night  if  I  can.  I  must  go  down  and  see 
about  things.  I  say,  I  may  want  a  few  men  for  the 
day/ 

"  Anything  on  the  Mongoose  is  at  your  service. 
There's  my  gig  come  in  now.  I  know  that  coast, 


JUDSON   AND   THE  EMPIRE.  371 

dead,  drunk,  or  asleep,  and  you'll  need  all  the  knowl- 
edge you  can  get.  If  it  had  only  been  us  two  to- 
gether !  Come  over  with  me ! ' 

For  one  whole  hour  Judson  remained  closeted  in 
the  stern  cabin  of  the  Mongoose,  listening,  poring 
over  chart  upon  chart  and  taking  notes,  and  for  an 
hour  the  marine  at  the  door  heard  nothing  but 
things  like  these :  '  Now  you'll  have  to  put  in  here 
if  there's  any  sea  on.  That  current  is  ridiculously 
under-estimated,  and  it  sets  west  at  this  season  of 
the  year,  remember.  Their  boats  never  come  south 
of  this,  see?  So  it's  no  good  looking  out  for  them.' 
And  so  on  and  so  forth,  while  Judson  lay  at  length 
on  the  locker  by  the  three-pounder,  and  smoked  and 
absorbed  it  all. 

Next  morning  there  was  no  flat-iron  in  Simon's 
Bay,  only  a  little  smudge  of  smoke  off  Cape  Hang- 
klip  to  show  that  Mr.  Davies,  the  second-class  en- 
gine-room artificer,  was  giving  her  all  she  could 
carry.  At  the  Admiral's  house  the  ancient  and  re- 
tired bo'sun  who  had  seen  many  Admirals  come  and 
go,  brought  out  his  paint  and  brushes  and  gave  a 
new  coat  of  pure  raw  pea-green  to  the  two  big  can- 
non balls  that  stood  one  on  each  side  of  the  Admi- 
ral's entrance-gate.  He  felt  dimly  that  great  events 
were  stirring. 

And  the  flat-iron,  constructed,  as  has  been  before 
said,  solely  for  the  defence  of  rivers,  met  the  great 
roll  off  Cape  Agulhas  and  was  swept  from  end  to 


372  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

end  and  sat  upon  her  twin-screws  and  leaped  as 
gracefully  as  a  cow  in  a  bog  from  one  sea  to  another, 
till  Mr.  Da  vies  began  to  fear  for  the  safety  of  his  en- 
gines, and  the  Kroo  boys  that  made  the  majority  of 
the  crew  were  deathly  sick.  She  ran  along  a  very 
badly-lighted  coast,  past  bays  that  were  no  bays, 
where  ugly  flat-topped  rocks  lay  almost  level  with 
the  water,  and  very  many  extraordinary  things  hap- 
pened that  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  story,  but 
they  were  all  duly  logged  by  Bai-Jove-Judson. 

At  last  the  coast  changed  and  grew  green  and  low 
and  exceedingly  muddy,  and  there  were  broad  rivers 
whose  bars  were  little  islands  standing  three  or  four 
miles  out  at  sea,  and  Bai-Jove-Judson  hugged  the 
shore  more  closely  than  ever,  remembering  what  the 
lieutenant  of  the  Mongoose  had  told  him.  Then  he 
found  a  river  full  of  the  smell  of  fever  and  mud, 
with  green  stuff  growing  far  into  its  waters,  and  a 
current  that  made  the  flat-iron  gasp  and  grunt. 

'  We  will  turn  up  here/  said  Bai-Jove-Judson,  and 
they  turned  up  accordingly;  Mr.  Davies  wondering 
what  in  the  world  it  all  meant,  and  the  Kroo  boys 
grinning.  Bai-Jove-Judson  went  forward  to  the 
bows  and  meditated,  staring  through  the  muddy 
waters.  After  six  hours  of  rooting  through  this 
desolation  at  an  average  rate  of  five  miles  an  hour, 
his  eyes  were  cheered  by  the  sight  of  one  white  buoy 
in  the  coffee-hued  mid-stream.  The  flat-iron  crept 
up  to  it  cautiously,  and  a  leadsman  took  soundings 


JUDSON   AND   THE  EMPIEE.  373 

all  around  it  from  a  dinghy,  while  Bai- Jove- Judson 
smoked  and  thought,  with  his  head  on  one  side. 

'  About  seven  feet,  isn't  there  ? '  said  he.  '  That 
must  be  the  tail  end  of  the  shoal.  There's  four 
fathom  in  the  fairway.  Knock  that  buoy  down 
with  axes.  I  don't  think  it's  picturesque  somehow.' 
The  Kroo  men  hacked  the  wooden  sides  to  pieces  in 
three  minutes,  and  the  mooring-chaiu  sank  with  the 
last  splinters  of  wood.  Bai -Jove- Judson  laid  the 
flat-iron  carefully  over  the  site,  while  Mr.  Davies 
watched,  biting  his  nails  nervously. 

'  Can  you  back  her  against  this  current  ? '  said 
Bai- Jove- Judson.  Mr.  Davies  could,  inch  by  inch, 
but  only  inch  by  inch,  and  Bai-Jove-Judson  sat  in 
the  bows  and  gazed  at  various  things  on  the  bank  as 
they  came  into  line  or  opened  out.  The  flat-iron 
dropped  down  over  the  tail  of  the  shoal,  exactly 
where  the  buoy  had  been,  and  backed  once  before 
Bai-Jove-Judson  was  satisfied.  Then  they  went  up 
stream  for  half  an  hour,  put  into  shoal  water  by  the 
bank  and  waited,  with  a  slip-rope  on  the  anchor. 

'Seems  to  me/  said  Mr.  Davies  deferentially, 
'  like  as  if  I  heard  some  one  a-fi ring  off  at  intervals, 
so  to  say.' 

There  was  beyond  doubt  a  dull  mutter  in  the  air. 

'Seems  to  me/  said  Bai-Jove-Judson,  'as  if  I 
heard  a  screw.  Stand  by  to  slip  her  moorings.' 

Another  ten  minutes  passed  and  the  beat  of  en- 
gines grew  plainer.  Then  round  the  bend  of  the 


374  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

river  came  a  remarkably  prettily-built  white-painted 
gunboat  with  a  blue  and  white  flag  bearing  a  red 
boss  in  the  centre. 

'  Unshackle  abaft  the  windlass !  Stream  both 
buoys  !  Easy,  astern.  Let  go,  all ! '  The  slip-rope 
flew  out,  the  two  buoys  bobbed  in  the  water  to  mark 
where  anchor  and  cable  had  been  left,  and  the  flat- 
iron  waddled  out  into  midstream  with  the  white 
ensign  at  her  one  mast-head. 

'  Give  her  all  you  can.  That  thing  has  the  legs 
of  us,'  said  Judson.  '  And  down  we  go ! ' 

'  It's  war — bloody  war.  He's  going  to  fire,'  said 
Mr.  Davies,  looking  up  through  the  engine-room 
hatch. 

The  white  gunboat  without  a  word  of  explanation 
fired  three  guns  at  the  flat-iron,  cutting  the  trees  on 
the  banks  into  green  chips.  Bai-Jove-Judson  was  at 
the  wheel,  and  Mr.  Davies  and  the  current  helped 
the  boat  to  an  almost  respectable  degree  of  speed. 

It  was  an  exciting  chase,  but  it  did  not  last  for 
more  than  five  minutes.  The  white  gunboat  fired 
again,  and  Mr.  Davies  in  his  engine-room  gave  a 
wild  shout. 

'What's  the  matter?  Hit?'  said  Bai-Jove- 
Judson. 

'  No,  I've  just  seized  of  your  roos-de-gare.  Beg  y' 
pardon,  sir.' 

'Right  O!  Just  the  half  a  fraction  of  a  point 
more.'  The  wheel  turned  under  the  steady  hand,  as 


JUDSON   AND  THE   EMPIRE.  375 

Bai-Jove-Judson  watched  his  marks  on  the  bank 
coming  in  line  swiftly  as  troops  anxious  to  aid.  The 
flat-iron  smelt  the  shoal  water  tinder  her,  checked 
for  an  instant,  and  went  on.  'Now  we're  over. 
Come  along,  you  thieves,  there ! ' 

The  white  gunboat,  too  hurried  even  to  fire,  was 
storming  in  the  wake  of  the  flat-iron,  steering  as  she 
steered.  This  was  unfortunate,  because  the  lighter 
craft  was  dead  over  the  missing  buoy. 

'  What  you  do  here  ? '  shouted  a  voice  from  the 
bows. 

'I'm  going  on.  Hold  tight.  Now  you're  ar- 
ranged for ! ' 

There  was  a  crash  and  a  clatter  as  the  white  gun- 
boat's nose  took  the  shoal,  and  the  brown  mud  boiled 
up  in  oozy  circles  under  her  forefoot.  Then  the 
current  caught  her  stern  by  the  starboard  side  and 
drove  her  broadside  on  to  the  shoal,  slowly  and 
gracefully.  There  she  heeled  at  an  undignified 
angle,  and  her  crew  yelled  aloud. 

'  Neat !  Oh,  damn  neat ! '  quoth  Mr.  Davies,  dan- 
cing on  the  engine-room  plates,  while  the  Kroo 
stokers  grinned. 

The  flat-iron  turned  upstream  again,  and  passed 
under  the  hove-up  starboard  side  of  the  white  gun- 
boat, to  be  received  with  howls  and  imprecations  in 
a  strange  tongue.  The  stranded  boat,  exposed  even 
to  her  lower  strakes,  was  as  defenceless  as  a  turtle 
on  its  back,  without  the  advantage  of  the  turtle's 


376  MANY  INVENTIONS. 

plating.  And  the  one  big  blunt  gun  in  the  bows  of 
the  flat-iron  was  unpleasantly  near. 

But  the  captain  was  valiant  and  swore  mightily. 
Bai-Jove-Judson  took  no  sort  of  notice.  His  busi- 
ness was  to  go  up  the  river. 

'  We  will  come  in  a  flotilla  of  boats  and  ecrazer 
your  vile  tricks/  said  the  captain  with  language  that 
need  not  be  published. 

Then  said  Bai-Jove-Judson,  who  was  a  linguist : 
'  You  stay  o  where  you  are  o,  or  I'll  leave  a  hole-o  in 
your  bottom  o  that  will  make  you  much  os  perfora- 
tados/ 

There  was  a  great  deal  of  mixed  language  in 
reply,  but  Bai-Jove-Judson  was  out  of  hearing  in  a 
few  minutes,  and  Mr.  Da  vies,  himself  a  man  of  few 
words,  confided  to  one  of  his  subordinates  that 
Lieutenant  Judson  was  '  a  most  remarkable  prompt 
officer  in  a  way  of  putting  it.' 

For  two  hours  the  flat-iron  pawed  madly  through 
the  muddy  water,  and  that  which  had  been  at  first  a 
mutter  became  a  distinct  rumble. 

'  Was  war  declared  ? '  said  Mr.  Davies,  and  Bai- 
Jove-Judson  laughed.  'Then,  damn  his  eyes,  he 
might  have  spoilt  my  pretty  little  engines.  There's 
war  up  there  though.' 

The  next  bend  brought  them  full  in  sight  of  a 
small  but  lively  village,  built  round  a  whitewashed 
mud  house  of  some  pretensions.  There  were  scores 
and  scores  of  saddle-coloured  soldiery  on  duty,  white 


JUDSON   AND  THE  EMPIEE.  377 

uniforms  running  to  and  fro  and  shouting  round  a 
man  in  a  litter,  and  on  a  gentle  slope  that  ran  inland 
for  four  or  five  miles  something  like  a  brisk  battle 
was  raging  round  a  rude  stockade.  A  smell  of  un- 
buried  carcasses  floated  through  the  air  and  vexed 
the  sensitive  nose  of  Mr.  Davies,  who  spat  over  the 
side. 

*  I  want  to  get  this  gun  on  that  house/  said  Bai- 
Jove-Judson,  indicating  the  superior  dwelling  over 
whose  flat  roof  floated  the  blue  and  white  flag.  The 
little  twin  screws  kicked  up  the  water  exactly  as  a 
hen's  legs  kick  in  the  dust  before  she  settles  down  to 
a  bath.  The  little  boat  moved  uneasily  from  left  to 
right,  backed,  yawed  again,  went  ahead,  and  at  last 
the  gray  blunt  gun's  nose  was  held  as  straight  as  a 
rifle-barrel  on  the  mark  indicated.  Then  Mr.  Davies 
allowed  the  whistle  to  speak  as  it  is  not  allowed  to 
speak  in  Her  Majesty's  service  on  account  of  waste 
of  steam.  The  soldiery  of  the  village  gathered  into 
knots  and  groups  and  bunches,  and  the  firing  up  the 
hill  ceased,  and  every  one  except  the  crew  of  the 
flat-iron  yelled  aloud.  Something  like  an  English 
cheer  came  down  wind. 

'  Our  chaps  in  mischief  for  sure,  probably,'  said 
Mr.  Davies.  '  They  must  have  declared  war  weeks 
ago,  in  a  kind  of  way,  seems  to  me/ 

'  Hold  her  steady,  you  son  of  a  soldier ! '  shouted 
Bai-Jove-Judson,  as  the  muzzle  fell  off  the  white 
house. 


378  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

Something  rang  as  loudly  as  a  ship's  bell  on  the 
forward  plates  of  the  flat-iron,  something  spluttered 
in  the  water,  and  another  thing  cut  a  groove  in  the 
deck  planking  an  inch  in  front  of  Bai-Jove-Judsoii's 
left  foot.  The  saddle-coloured  soldiery  were  firing 
as  the  mood  took  them,  and  the  man  in  the  litter 
waved  a  shining  sword.  The  muzzle  of  the  big  gun 
kicked  down  a  fraction  as  it  was  laid  on  the 
mud  wall  at  the  bottom  of  the  house  garden.  Ten 
pounds  of  gunpowder  shut  up  in  a  hundred  pounds 
of  metal  was  its  charge.  Three  or  four  yards  of  the 
mud  wall  jumped  up  a  little,  as  a  man  jumps  when 
he  is  caught  in  the  small  of  the  back  with  a  knee- 
cap, and  then  fell  forward,  spreading  fan-wise  in  the 
fall.  The  soldiery  fired  no  more  that  day,  and  Jud- 
son  saw  an  old  black  woman  climb  to  the  flat  roof 
of  the  house.  She  fumbled  for  a  time  with  the  flag 
halliards,  then  finding  that  they  were  jammed,  took 
off  her  one  garment,  which  happened  to  be  an 
Isabella-coloured  petticoat,  and  waved  it  impatiently. 
The  man  in  the  litter  flourished  a  white  handker- 
chief, and  Bai-Jove-Judson  grinned.  'Now  we'll 
give  'em  one  up  the  hill.  Round  with  her,  Mr. 
Davies.  Curse  the  man  who  invented  those  floating 
gun  platforms.  When  can  I  pitch  in  a  notice  with- 
out slaying  one  of  those  little  devils  ? ' 

The  side  of  the  slope  was  speckled  with  men 
returning  in  a  disorderly  fashion  to  the  river  front. 
Behind  them  marched  a  small  but  very  compact 


JUDSON  AND  THE  EMPIRE.  379 

body  of  men  who  had  filed  out  of  the  stockade. 
These  last  dragged  quick-firing  guns  with  them. 

'  Bai  Jove,  it's  a  regular  army.  I  wonder  whose,' 
said  Bai-Jove-Judson,  and  he  waited  developments. 
The  descending  troops  met  and  mixed  with  the 
troops  in  the  village,  and,  with  the  litter  in  the 
centre,  crowded  down  to  the  river,  till  the  men  with 
the  quick-firing  guns  came  up  behind  them.  Then 
they  divided  left  and  right  and  the  detachment 
marched  through. 

'  Heave  these  damned  things  over ! '  said  the 
leader  of  the  party,  and  one  after  another  ten  little 
gatlings  splashed  into  the  muddy  water.  The  flat- 
iron  lay  close  to  the  bank. 

'  When  you're  quite  done/  said  Bai-Jove-Judson 
politely,  'would  you  mind  telling  me  what's  the 
matter  ?  I'm  in  charge  here/ 

'  We're  the  Pioneers  of  the  General  Development 
Company/  said  the  leader.  'These  little  bounders 
have  been  hammering  us  in  lager  for  twelve  hours, 
and  we're  getting  rid  of  their  gatlings.  Had  to 
climb  out  and  take  them ;  but  they've  snaffled  the 
lock-actions.  Glad  to  see  you/ 

'  Any  one  hurt  ? ' 

'  No  one  killed  exactly,  but  we're  very  dry/ 

'  Can  you  hold  your  men  ? ' 

The  man  turned  round  and  looked  at  his  com- 
mand with  a  grin.  There  were  seventy  of  them,  all 

dusty  and  unkempt. 
25 


380  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

'  We  sha'n't  sack  this  ash-bin  if  that's  what  you 
mean.  We're  mostly  gentlemen  here,  though  we 
don't  look  it.' 

*  All  right.  Send  the  head  of  this  post,  or  fort,  or 
village,  or  whatever  it  is,  aboard,  and  make  what 
arrangements  you  can  for  your  men.' 

'We'll  find  some  barrack  accommodation  some- 
where. Hullo !  You  in  the  litter  there,  go  aboard 
the  gunboat.'  The  command  wheeled  round,  pushed 
through  the  dislocated  soldiery,  and  began  to  search 
through  the  village  for  spare  huts. 

The  little  man  in  the  litter  came  aboard  smiling 
nervously.  He  was  in  the  fullest  of  full  uniform, 
with  many  yards  of  gold  lace  and  dangling  chains. 
Also  he  wore  very  large  spurs ;  the  nearest  horse 
being  not  more  than  four  hundred  miles  away.  *  My 
children,'  said  he,  facing  the  silent  soldiery,  'lay 
aside  your  arms.' 

Most  of  the  men  had  dropped  them  already  and 
were  sitting  down  to  smoke.  'Let  nothing,'  he 
added  in  his  own  tongue, '  tempt  you  to  kill  these 
who  have  sought  your  protection/ 

'  Now,'  said  Bai-Jove-Judson,  on  whom  the  last 
remark  was  lost, '  will  you  have  the  goodness  to  ex- 
plain what  the  deuce  you  mean  by  all  this  nonsense  ? ' 

'It  was  of  a  necessitate,'  said  the  little  man. 
'The  operations  of  war  are  unconformible.  I  am 
the  Governor  and  I  operate  Captain.  Be'old  my 
little  sword.' 


JUDSON  AND  THE  EMPIRE.  381 

'  Confound  your  little  sword,  sir.  I  don't  want  it. 
You've  fired  on  our  flag.  You've  been  firing  at  our 
people  here  for  a  week,  and  I've  been  fired  at  coming 
up  the  river.' 

'  Ah !  The  Guadala.  She  have  misconstrued  you 
for  a  slaver  possibly.  How  are  the  Guadala  ? ' 

'  Mistook  a  ship  of  Her  Majesty's  navy  for  a 
slaver!  You  mistake  any  craft  for  a  slaver.  Bai 
Jove,  sir,  I've  a  good  mind  to  hang  you  at  the  yard- 
arm!' 

There  was  nothing  nearer  that  terrible  spar  than 
the  walking-stick  in  the  rack  of  Judson's  cabin. 
The  Governor  looked  at  the  one  mast  and  smiled  a 
deprecating  smile. 

'  The  position  is  embarrassment,'  he  said.  '  Cap- 
tain, do  you  think  those  illustrious  traders  burn  my 
capital  ?  My  people  will  give  them  beer.' 

'  Never  mind  the  traders,  I  want  an  explanation.' 

'Hum!  There  are  popular  uprising  in  Europe, 
Captain — in  my  country.'  His  eye  wandered  aim- 
lessly round  the  horizon. 

*  What  has  that  to  do  with ' 

'  Captain,  you  are  very  young.  There  is  still  up- 
roariment.  But  I,' — here  he  slapped  his  chest  till  his 
epaulets  jingled — 'I  am  loyalist  to  pits  of  all  my 
stomachs.' 

'  Go  on/  said  Judson,  and  his  mouth  quivered. 

'An  order  arrive  to  me  to  establish  a  custom- 
houses here,  and  to  collect  of  the  taximent  from  the 


MANY  INVENTIONS. 

traders  when  she  are  come  here  necessarily.  That 
was  on  account  of  political  understandings  with 
your  country  and  mine.  But  on  that  arrangement 
there  was  no  money  also.  Not  one  damn  little  cow- 
rie. I  desire  damnably  to  extend  all  commercial 
things,  and  why  ?  I  am  loyalist  and  there  is  rebel- 
lion— yes,  I  tell  you — Republics  in  my  country  for 
to  just  begin.  You  do  not  believe  ?  See  some  time 
how  it  exist.  I  cannot  make  this  custom-houses  and 
pay  the  so  high-paid  officials.  The  people  too  in  my 
country  they  say  the  king  she  has  no  regardance 
into  Honour  of  her  nation.  He  throw  away  every- 
thing— Gladstone  her  all,  you  say,  pay  ? ' 

'  Yes,  that's  what  we  say,'  said  Judson  with  a 
grin. 

*  Therefore  they  say,  let  us  be  Republics  on  hot 
cakes.    But  I — I  am  loyalist  to  all  my  hands'  ends. 
Captain,  once  I  was  attach^  at  Mexico.    I  say  the 
Republics  are  no  good.    The  peoples  have  her  stom- 
ach high.     They  desire — they  desire — a  course  for 
the  bills.' 

'  What  on  earth  is  that  ? ' 

*  The  cock-fight  for  pay  at  the  gate.    You  give 
something,  pay  for  see  bloody  row.     Do  I  make  its 
comprehension  ? ' 

( A  run  for  their  money — is  that  what  you  mean  ? 
Gad,  you're  sporting,  Governor.' 

'  So  I  say.  I  am  loyalist  too.'  He  smiled  more 
easily.  '  Now  how  can  anything  do  herself  for  the 


JUDSON   AND  THE  EMPIRE.  383 

customs-houses  ;  but  when  the  Company's  mens  she 
arrives,  then  a  cock-fight  for  pay  at  gate  that  is 
quite  correct.  My  army  he  says  it  will  Republic 
and  shoot  me  off  upon  walls  if  I  have  not  give  her 
blood.  An  army,  Captain,  are  terrible  in  her  angries 
— especialment  when  she  are  not  paid.  I  know  too/ 
here  he  laid  his  hand  on  Judson's  shoulder, '  I  know 
too  we  are  old  friends.  Yes !  Badajos,  Almeida, 
Fuentes  d'Onor — time  ever  since ;  and  a  little,  little 
cock-fight  for  pay  at  gate  that  is  good  for  my  king. 
More  sit  her  tight  on  throne  behind,  you  see  ?  Now/ 
he  waved  his  hand  round  the  decayed  village,  '  I 
say  to  my  armies,  Fight !  Fight  the  Company's 
men  when  she  come,  but  fight  not  so  very  strong 
that  you  are  any  deads.  It  is  all  in  the  raporta  that 
I  send.  But  you  understand,  Captain,  we  are  good 
friends  all  the  time.  Ah !  Ciudad  Rodrigo,  you 
remember  ?  No  ?  Perhaps  your  father  then  ?  So 
you  see  no  one  are  deads,  and  we  fight  a  fight,  and  it 
is  all  in  the  raporta,  to  please  the  people  in  our  coun- 
try, and  my  armies  they  do  not  put  me  against  the 
walls.  You  see  ? ' 

'  Yes ;  but  the  Guadala.  She  fired  on  us.  Was 
that  part  of  your  game,  my  joker  ? ' 

'  The  Guadala.  Ah !  No,  I  think  not.  Her  cap- 
tain he  is  too  big  fool.  But  I  think  she  have  gone 
down  the  coast.  Those  your  gunboats  poke  her 
nose  and  shove  her  oar  in  every  place.  How  is 
Guadala  ? ' 


384  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

'  On  a  shoal.    Stuck  till  I  take  her  off/ 

'  There  are  any  deads  ? ' 

'No.' 

The  Governor  drew  a  breath  of  deep  relief. 
'  There  are  no  deads  here.  So  you  see  none  are  deads 
anywhere,  and  nothing  is  done.  Captain,  you  talk 
to  the  Company's  mens.  I  think  they  are  not 
pleased.' 

'Naturally/ 

'  They  have  no  sense.  I  thought  to  go  backwards 
again  they  would.  I  leave  her  stockade  alone  all 
night  to  let  them  out,  but  they  stay  and  come  face- 
wards  to  me,  not  backwards.  They  did  not  know  we 
must  conquer  much  in  all  these  battles,  or  the  king, 
he  is  kicked  off  her  throne.  Now  we  have  won  this 
battle — this  great  battle,'  he  waved  his  arms  abroad, 
'and  I  think  you  will  say  so  that  we  have  won, 
Captain.  You  are  loyalist  also.  You  would  not 
disturb  to  the  peaceful  Europe  ?  Captain,  I  tell  you 
this.  Your  Queen  she  know  too.  She  would  not 
fight  her  cousins.  It  is  a — a  hand-up  thing/ 

'What?' 

'  Hand-up  thing.    Jobe  you  put.    How  you  say  ? ' 

'  Put-up  job  ? ' 

'  Yes.  Put-up  job.  Who  is  hurt  ?  We  win. 
You  lose.  All  righta  ? ' 

Bai-Jove-Judson  had  been  exploding  at  intervals 
for  the  last  five  minutes.  Here  he  broke  down  com- 
pletely and  roared  aloud. 


JUDSON  AND  THE  EMPIRE.  385 

'  But  look  here,  Governor/  he  said  at  last, '  I've 
got  to  think  of  other  things  than  your  riots  in  Eu- 
rope. You've  fired  on  our  flag.' 

'  Captain,  if  you  are  me,  you  would  have  done 
how  ?  And  also,  and  also,'  he  drew  himself  up  to 
his  full  height, '  we  are  both  brave  men  of  bravest 
countries.  Our  honour  is  the  honour  of  our  King/ 
here  he  uncovered,  'and  of  our  Queen/  here  he 
bowed  low.  '  Now,  Captain,  you  shall  shell  my  pal- 
ace and  I  shall  be  your  prisoner.' 

'  Skittles ! "  said  Bai-Jove-Judson.  '  I  can't  shell 
that  old  hencoop.' 

'  Then  come  to  dinner.  Madeira,  she  are  still  to 
us,  and  I  have  of  the  best  she  manufac.' 

He  skipped  over  the  side  beaming,  and  Bai-Jove- 
Judson  went  into  the  cabin  to  laugh  his  laugh  out. 
When  he  had  recovered  a  little  he  sent  Mr.  Davies 
to  the  head  of  the  Pioneers,  the  dusty  man  with  the 
gatlings,  and  the  troops  who  had  abandoned  the 
pursuit  of  arms  watched  the  disgraceful  spectacle  of 
two  men  reeling  with  laughter  on  the  quarter-deck 
of  a  gunboat. 

*  I'll  put  my  men  to  build  him  a  custom-house/ 
said  the  head  of  the  Pioneers  gasping.  '  We'll  make 
him  one  decent  road  at  least.  That  Governor  ought 
to  be  knighted.  I'm  glad  now  that  we  didn't  fight 
'em  in  the  open,  or  we'd  have  killed  some  of  them. 
So  he's  won  great  battles,  has  he  ?  Give  him 
the  compliments  of  the  victims,  and  tell  him  I'm 


386  MANY  INVENTIONS. 

coming  to  dinner.  You  haven't  such  a  thing  as  a 
dress-suit,  have  you  ?  I  haven't  seen  one  for  six 
months/ 

That  evening  there  was  a  dinner  in  the  village — 
a  general  and  enthusiastic  dinner,  whose  head  was 
in  the  Governor's  house,  and  whose  tail  threshed  at 
large  throughout  all  the  streets.  The  Madeira  was 
everything  that  the  Governor  had  said,  and  more, 
and  it  was  tested  against  two  or  three  bottles  of  Bai- 
Jove-Judson's  best  Vanderhum,  which  is  Cape 
brandy  ten  years  in  the  bottle,  flavoured  with 
orange-peel  and  spices.  Before  the  coffee  was  re- 
moved (by  the  lady  who  had  made  the  flag  of  truce) 
the  Governor  had  sold  the  whole  of  his  governor- 
ship and  its  appurtenances,  once  to  Bai- Jove-Judson 
for  services  rendered  by  Judson's  grandfather  in  the 
Peninsular  War,  and  once  to  the  head  of  the  Pio- 
neers, in  consideration  of  that  gentleman's  good 
friendship.  After  the  negotiation  he  retreated  for 
a  while  into  an  inner  apartment,  and  there  evolved 
a  true  and  complete  account  of  the  defeat  of  the 
British  arms,  which  he  read  with  his  cocked  hat 
over  one  eye  to  Judson  and  his  companion.  It  was 
Judson  who  suggested  the  sinking  of  the  flat-iron 
with  all  hands,  and  the  head  of  the  pioneers  who 
supplied  the  list  of  killed  and  wounded  (not  more 
than  two  hundred)  in  his  command. 

'Gentlemen/  said  the  Governor  from  under  his 
cocked  hat,  '  the  peace  of  Europe  are  saved  by  this 


JUDSON   AND   THE  EMPIRE.  387 

raporta.  You  shall  all  be  Knights  of  the  Golden 
Hide.  She  shall  go  by  the  Guadala.' 

'  Great  Heavens  ! '  said  Bai- Jove- Judson,  flushed 
but  composed,  '  that  reminds  me  I've  left  that  boat 
stuck  on  her  broadside  down  the  river.  I  must 
go  down  and  soothe  the  commandante.  He'll  be 
blue  with  rage.  Governor,  let  us  go  a  sail  on  the 
river  to  cool  our  heads.  A  picnic,  you  understand/ 

'  Ya — as  everything  I  understand.  Ho !  A  pic- 
nica!  You  are  all  my  prisoner,  but  I  am  good 
gaoler.  We  shall  picnic  on  the  river,  and  we  shall 
take  all  the  girls.  Come  on,  my  prisoners/ 

*  I  do  hope/  said  the  head  of  the  Pioneers,  staring 
from  the  veranda  into  the  roaring  village,  '  that 
my  chaps  won't  set  the  town  alight  by  accident. 
Hullo !  Hullo !  A  guard  of  honour  for  His  Ex- 
cellency, the  most  illustrious  Governor ! ' 

Some  thirty  men  answered  the  call,  made  a  sway- 
ing line  upon  a  more  swaying  course,  and  bore  the 
Governor  most  swayingly  of  all  high  in  the  arms  as 
they  staggered  down  to  the  river.  And  the  song 
that  they  sang  bade  them,  '  Swing,  swing  together 
their  body  between  their  knees ' ;  and  they  obeyed 
the  words  of  the  song  faithfully,  except  that  they 
were  anything  but '  steady  from  stroke  to  bow/  His 
Excellency  the  Governor  slept  on  his  uneasy  litter, 
and  did  not  wake  when  the  chorus  dropped  him  on 
the  deck  of  the  flat-iron. 

'  Good-night  and  Good-bye,'  said  the  head  of  the 


388  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

pioneers  to  Judson, '  I'd  give  you  my  card  if  I  had 
it,  but  I'm  so  damned  drunk  I  hardly  know  my  own 
club.  Oh  yes!  It's  the  Travellers.  If  ever  we 
meet  in  Town,  remember  me.  I  must  stay  here 
and  look  after  my  fellows.  We're  all  right  in  the 
open,  now.  I  s'pose  you'll  return  the  Governor  some 
time.  This  is  a  political  crisis.  Good-night.' 

The  flat-iron  went  down-stream  through  the 
dark.  The  Governor  slept  on  deck,  and  Judson 
took  the  wheel,  but  how  he  steered,  and  why  he  did 
not  run  into  each  bank  many  times  that  officer  does 
not  remember.  Mr.  Davies  did  not  note  anything 
unusual,  for  there  are  two  ways  of  taking  too  much, 
and  Judson  was  only  ward-room,  not  foc's'le  drunk. 
As  the  night  grew  colder  the  Governor  woke  up, 
and  expressed  a  desire  for  whisky  and  soda.  When 
that  came  they  were  nearly  abreast  of  the  stranded 
Guadala,  and  His  Excellency  saluted  the  flag  that 
he  could  not  see  with  loyal  and  patriotic  strains. 

'  They  do  not  see.    They  do  not  hear,'  he  cried. 

*  Ten  thousand  saints !    They  sleep,  and  I  have  won 
battles!    Ha!' 

He  started  forward  to  the  gun,  which,  very  natu- 
rally, was  loaded,  pulled  the  lanyard,  and  woke  the 
dead  night  with  the  roar  of  the  full  charge  behind  a 
common  shell.  That  shell  mercifully  just  missed 
the  stern  of  the  Guadala,  and  burst  on  the  bank. 

*  Now  you  shall  salute  your  Governor,'  said  he,  as  he 
heard  feet  running  in  all  directions  within  the  iron 


JUDSON  AND   THE  EMPIRE.  389 

skin.  '  Why  you  demand  so  base  a  quarter  ?  I  am 
here  with  all  my  prisoners.' 

In  the  hurly-burly  and  the  general  shriek  for 
mercy  his  reassurances  were  not  heard. 

'  Captain/  said  a  grave  voice  from  the  ship,  *  we 
have  surrendered.  Is  it  the  custom  of  the  English 
to  fire  on  a  helpless  ship  ? ' 

'  Surrendered !  Holy  Virgin !  I  go  to  cut  off  all 
their  heads.  You  shall  be  ate  by  wild  ants — flogged 
and  drowned.  Throw  me  a  balcony.  It  is  I,  the 
Governor !  You  shall  never  surrender.  Judson  of 
my  soul,  ascend  her  insides,  and  send  me  a  bed,  for  I 
am  sleepy;  but,  oh,  I  will  multiple  time  kill  that 
captain ! ' 

'  Oh ! '  said  the  voice  in  the  darkness, '  I  begin  to 
comprehend/  And  a  rope-ladder  was  thrown,  up 
which  the  Governor  scrambled,  with  Judson  at  his 
heels. 

*  Now  we  will  enjoy  executions/  said  the  Gover- 
nor on  the  deck.  'All  these  Republicans  shall  be 
shot.  Little  Judson,  if  I  am  not  drunk,  why  are  so 
sloping  the  boards  which  do  not  support?' 

The  deck,  as  I  have  said,  was  at  a  very  stiff  cant. 
His  Excellency  sat  down,  slid  to  leeward,  and  was 
asleep  again. 

The  captain  of  the  Guadala  bit  his  moustache 
furiously,  and  muttered  in  his  own  tongue :  '  This 
land  is  the  father  of  great  villains  and  the  step- 
father of  honest  men.  You  see  our  material,  Cap- 


390  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

tain.  It  is  so  everywhere  with  us.  You  have  killed 
some  of  the  rats,  I  hope  ? ' 

1  Not  a  rat/  said  Judson  genially. 

'  That  is  a  pity.  If  they  were  dead,  our  country 
might  send  us  men,  but  our  country  is  dead  too,  and 
I  am  dishonoured  on  a  mud-bank  through  your 
English  treachery/ 

'  Well,  it  seems  to  me  that  firing  on  a  little  tub 
of  our  size  without  a  word  of  warning,  when  you 
knew  that  the  countries  were  at  peace,  is  treachery 
enough  in  a  small  way/ 

'  If  one  of  my  guns  had  touched  you,  you  would 
have  gone  to  the  bottom,  all  of  you.  I  would  have 
taken  the  risk  with  my  Government.  By  that  time 
it  would  have  been 

'  A  Republic  ?  So  you  really  did  mean  fighting 
on  your  own  hook  ?  You're  rather  a  dangerous  offi- 
cer to  cut  loose  in  a  navy  like  yours.  Well,  what 
are  you  going  to  do  now  ? ' 

'Stay  here.  Go  away  in  boats.  What  does  it 
matter  ?  That  drunken  cat ' — he  pointed  to  the 
shadow  in  which  the  Governor  slept — 'is  here.  I 
must  take  him  back  to  his  hole.' 

'  Very  good.  I'll  tow  you  off  at  daylight  if  you 
get  steam  ready/ 

'  Captain,  I  warn  you  that  as  soon  as  she  floats 
again  I  will  fight  you.' 

'  Humbug !  You'll  have  lunch  with  me,  and 
then  you'll  take  the  Governor  up  the  river/ 


JUDSON  AND  THE  EMPIRE.  391 

\ 

The  captain  was  silent  for  some  time.  Then  he 
said :  '  Let  us  drink.  What  must  be,  must  be,  and 
after  all  we  have  not  forgotten  the  Peninsular.  You 
will  admit,  Captain,  that  it  is  bad  to  be  run  upon  a 
shoal  like  a  mud-dredger  ? ' 

'  Oh,  we'll  pull  you  off  before  you  can  say  knife. 
Take  care  of  His  Excellency.  I  shall  try  to  get  a 
little  sleep  now/ 

They  slept  on  both  ships  till  the  morning,  and 
then  the  work  of  towing  off  the  Guadala  began. 
With  the  help  of  her  own  engines,  and  the  tugging 
and  puffing  of  the  flat-iron,  she  slid  off  the  mud- 
bank  sideways  into  the  deep  water,  the  flat-iron 
immediately  under  her  stern,  and  the  big  eye  of  the 
four-inch  gun  almost  peering  through  the  window 
of  the  captain's  cabin. 

Remorse  in  the  shape  of  a  violent  headache  had 
overtaken  the  Governor.  He  was  uneasily  conscious 
that  he  might,  perhaps,  have  exceeded  his  powers, 
and  the  captain  of  the  Guadala,  in  spite  of  all  his 
patriotic  sentiments,  remembered  distinctly  that  no 
war  had  been  declared  between  the  two  countries. 
He  did  not  need  the  Governor's  repeated  reminders 
that  war,  serious  war,  meant  a  Republic  at  home, 
possible  supersession  in  his  command,  and  much 
shooting  of  living  men  against  dead  walls. 

'  We  have  satisfied  our  honour,'  said  the  Governor 
in  confidence.  '  Our  army  is  appeased,  and  the  re- 
porta  that  you  take  home  will  show  that  we  were 


392  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

loyal  and  brave.  That  other  captain  ?  Bah !  He  is 
a  boy.  He  will  call  this  a — a — .  Judson  of  my  soul, 
how  you  say  this  is — all  this  affairs  which  have 
transpirated  between  us  ? ' 

Judson  was  watching  the  last  hawser  slipping 
through  the  fairlead.  '  Call  it  ?  Oh,  I  should  call  it 
rather  a  lark.  Now  your  boat's  all  right,  captain. 
When  will  you  come  to  lunch  ? ' 

'  I  told  you,'  said  the  Governor,  '  it  would  be  a 
larque  to  him/ 

*  Mother  of  the  Saints  !  then  what  is  his  serious- 
ness ? "  said  the  captain.  '  We  shall  be  happy  to 
come 'when  you  plesse.  Indeed,  we  have  no  other 
choice/  he  added  bitterly. 

'  Not  at  all,'  said  Judson,  and  as  he  looked  at  the 
three  or  four  shot  blisters  on  the  bows  of  his  boat  a 
brilliant  idea  took  him.  '  It  is  we  who  are  at  your 
mercy.  See  how  His  Excellency's  guns  knocked  us 
about/ 

"Sefior  Captain,'  said  the  Governor  pityingly, 
'  that  is  very  sad.  You  are  most  injured,  and  your 
deck  too,  it  is  all  shot  over.  We  shall  not  be  too 
severe  on  a  beat  man,  shall  we,  Captain  ? ' 

'  You  could't  spare  us  a  little  paint,  could  you  ? 
I'd  like  to  patch  up  a  little  after  the — action/  said 
Judson  meditatively,  fingering  his  upper  lip  to  hide 
a  smile. 

'Our  storeroom  is  at  your  disposition,'  said  the 
captain  of  the  Ouadala,  and  his  eye  brightened; 


JUDSON  AND  THE  EMPIEE.  393 

for  a  few  lead  splashes  on  gray  paint  make  a  big 
show. 

'  Mr.  Davies,  go  aboard  and  see  what  they  have 
to  spare — to  spare,  remember.  Their  spar-colour 
with  a  little  working  up  should  be  just  our  free- 
board tint.' 

'Oh  yes.  I'll  spare  them/  said  Mr.  Davies  sav- 
agely. 'I  don't  understand  this  how-d'you-do  and 
damn-your-eyes  business  coming  one  atop  of  the 
other  in  a  manner  o'  speaking.  By  all  rights,  they're 
our  lawful  prize.' 

The  Governor  and  the  captain  came  to  lunch  in 
the  absence  of  Mr.  Davies.  Bai-Jove-Judson  had 
not  much  to  offer,  but  what  he  had  was  given  as 
by  a  beaten  foeman  to  a  generous  conqueror.  When 
they  were  a  little  warmed — the  Governor  genial  and 
the  captain  almost  effusive — he  explained,  quite 
casually,  over  the  opening  of  a  bottle  that  it  would 
not  be  to  his  interest  to  report  the  affair  seriously, 
and  it  was  in  the  highest  degree  improbable  that  the 
Admiral  would  treat  it  in  any  grave  fashion. 

'When  my  decks  are  cut  up'  (there  was  one 
groove  across  four  planks), '  and  my  plates  buckled ' 
(there  were  five  lead  patches  on  three  plates), '  and  I 
met  such  a  boat  as  the  Guadala,  and  a  mere  accident 
saves  me  from  being  blown  out  of  the  water ' 

'Yes.  A  mere  accident,  Captain.  The  shoal- 
buoy  has  been  lost/  said  the  captain  of  the  Guadala. 

'Ah  ?    I  do  not  know  this  river.    That  was  very 


394  MANY  INVENTIONS. 

sad.  But  as  I  was  saying,  when  an  accident  saves 
me  from  being  sunk.  What  can  I  do  but  go  away — 
if  that  is  possible  ?  But  I  fear  that  I  have  no  coal 
for  the  sea  voyage.  It  is  very  sad/  Judson  had 
compromised  on  what  he  knew  of  the  French  tongue 
as  a  working  language. 

*  It  is  enough/  said  the  Governor,  waving  a  gen- 
erous hand.  '  Judson  of  my  soul,  the  coal  is  yours 
and  you  shall  be  repaired — yes,  repaired  all  over 
of  your  battle's  wounds.  You  shall  go  with  all  the 
honours  of  all  the  wars.  Your  flag  shall  fly.  Your 
drum  shall  beat.  Your,  ah ! — jolly  boys  shall  spoke 
their  bayonets.  Is  it  not  so,  Captain  ? ' 

1  As  you  say,  Excellency.  But  the  traders  in  the 
town.  What  of  them?' 

The  Governor  looked  puzzled  for  an  instant. 
He  could  not  quite  remember  what  had  happened  to 
those  jovial  men  who  had  cheered  him  over  night. 
Judson  interrupted  swiftly :  '  His  Excellency  has  set 
them  to  forced  works  on  barracks  and  magazines, 
and,  I  think,  a  custom-house.  When  that  is  done 
they  will  be  released,  I  hope,  Excellency/ 

'  Yes,  they  shall  be  released  for  your  sake,  little 
Judson  of  my  heart/  Then  they  drank  the  health 
of  their  respective  sovereigns,  while  Mr.  Davies 
superintended  the  removal  of  the  scarred  plank 
and  the  shot  -  marks  on  the  deck  and  the  bow- 
plates. 

'  Oh,  this  is  too  bad/  said  Judson  when  they  went 


JUDSON  AND  THE  EMPIRE.  305 

on  deck.  '  That  idiot  lias  exceeded  his  instructions, 
but — but  you  must  let  me  pay  for  this ! ' 

Mr.  Davies,  his  legs  in  the  water  as  he  sat  on  a 
staging  slung  over  the  bows,  was  acutely  conscious 
that  he  was  being  blamed  in  a  foreign  tongue.  He 
smiled  uneasily,  and  went  on  with  his  work. 

*  What  is  it  ? '  said  the  Governor. 

'That  thick-head  has  thought  that  we  needed 
some  gold-leaf,  and  he  has  borrowed  that  from  your 
storeroom,  but  I  must  make  it  good.'  Then  in  Eng- 
lish, '  Stand  up,  Mr.  Davies.  What  the  — —  in 

do  you  mean  by  taking  their  gold-leaf  ?  My ,  are 

we  a  set  of pirates  to  scrape  the guts  out  of 

a Levantine  bumboat.  Look  contrite,  you  butt- 
ended,  broad-breeched,  bottle-bellied,  swivel-eyed 
son  of  a  tinker,  you !  My  Soul  alive,  can't  I  main- 
tain discipline  in  my  own  ship  without  a black- 
smith of  a  boiler-riveter  putting  me  to  shame  before 
a  yellow-nosed  picaroon.  Get  oif  the  staging,  Mr. 
Davies,  and  go  to  the  engine-room.  Put  down  that 
leaf  first,  though,  and  leave  the  books  where  they 
are.  I'll  send  for  you  in  a  minute.  Go  aft ! ' 

Now,  only  the  upper  half  of  Mr.  Davies's  round 
face  was  above  the  bulwarks  when  this  torrent  of 
abuse  descended  upon  him ;  and  it  rose  inch  by  inch 
as  the  shower  continued :  blank  amazement,  bewil- 
derment, rage,  and  injured  pride  chasing  each  other 
across  it  till  he  saw  his  superior  officer's  left  eyelid 
flutter  on  the  cheek  twice.  Then  he  fled  to  the  en- 


396  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

gine-room,  and  wiping  his  brow  with  a  handful  of 
cotton- waste,  sat  down  to  overtake  circumstances. 

'  I  am  desolated/  said  Judson  to  his  companions, 
'but  you  see  the  material  that  you  give  us.  This 
leaves  me  more  in  your  debt  than  before.  The  stuff 
I  can  replace '  [gold-leaf  is  never  carried  on  floating 
gun-platforms],  *  but  for  the  insolence  of  that  man 
how  shall  I  apologise  ? ' 

Mr.  Davies's  mind  moved  slowly,  but  after  a 
while  he  transferred  the  cotton- waste  from  his  fore- 
head to  his  mouth  and  bit  on  it  to  prevent  laughter. 
He  began  a  second  dance  on  the  engine-room  plates. 
'  Neat !  Oh,  damned  neat ! '  he  chuckled.  '  I've 
served  with  a  good  few,  but  there  never  was  one  so 
neat  as  him.  And  I  thought  he  was  the  new  kind 
that  don't  know  how  to  put  a  few  words,  as  it  were ! ' 

'Mr.  Da  vies,  you  can  continue  your  work/  said 
Judson  down  the  engine-room  hatch.  '  These  officers 
have  been  good  enough  to  speak  in  your  favour. 
Make  a  thorough  job  of  it  while  you  are  about  it. 
Slap  on  every  man  you  have.  Where  did  you  get 
hold  of  it  ? ' 

'  Their  storeroom  is  a  regular  theatre,  sir.  You 
couldn't  miss  it.  There's  enough  for  two  first-rates, 
and  I've  scoffed  the  best  half  of  it/ 

'  Look  sharp  then.  We  shall  be  coaling  from  her 
this  afternoon.  You'll  have  to  cover  it  all/ 

'Neat!  Oh,  damned  neat!'  said  Mr.  Davies 
under  his  breath,  as  he  gathered  his  subordinates 


JUDSON  AND  THE  EMPIEE.  397 

together,  and  set  about  accomplishing  the  long-de- 
ferred wish  of  Judson's  heart. 

It  was  the  Martin  Frobisher,  the  flagship,  a  great 
war-boat  when  she  was  new,  in  the  days  when  men 
built  for  sail  as  well  as  for  steam.  She  could  turn 
twelve  knots  under  full  sail,  and  it  was  under  that 
that  she  stood  up  the  mouth  of  the  river,  a  pyramid 
of  silver  beneath  the  moon.  The  Admiral,  fearing 
that  he  had  given  Judson  a  task  beyond  his  strength, 
was  coming  to  look  for  him,  and  incidentally  to  do  a 
little  diplomatic  work  along  the  coast.  There  was 
hardly  wind  enough  to  move  the  Frobisher  a  couple 
of  knots  an  hour,  and  the  silence  of  the  land  closed 
about  her  as  she  entered  the  fairway.  Her  yards 
sighed  a  little  from  time  to  time,  and  the  ripple 
under  her  bows  answered  the  sigh.  The  full  moon 
rose  over  the  steaming  swamps,  and  the  Admiral 
gazing  upon  it  thought  less  of  Judson  and  more  of 
the  softer  emotions.  In  answer  to  the  very  mood  of 
his  mind  there  floated  across  the  silver  levels  of  the 
water,  mellowed  by  distance  to  a  most  poignant 
sweetness,  the  throb  of  a  mandolin,  and  the  voice  of 
one  who  called  upon  a  genteel  Julia — upon  Julia,  and 
upon  love.  The  song  ceased,  and  the  sighing  of  the 
yards  was  all  that  broke  the  silence  of  the  big  ship. 

Again  the  mandolin  began,  and  the  commander 
on  the  lee  side  of  the  quarter-deck  grinned  a  grin 
that  was  reflected  in  the  face  of  the  signal-midship- 


398  MANY  INVENTIONS. 

man.  Not  a  word  of  the  song  was  lost,  and  the  voice 
of  the  singer  was  the  voice  of  Judson. 

'  Last  week  down  our  alley  came  a  toff, 
Nice  old  geyser  with  a  nasty  cough, 
Sees  my  missus,  takes  his  topper  off, 
Quite  in  a  gentlemanly  way ' — 

and  so  on  to  the  end  of  the  verse.  The  chorus  was 
borne  by  several  voices,  and  the  signal-midshipman's 
foot  began  to  tap  the  deck  furtively. 

' "  What  cheer ! "  all  the  neighbours  cried. 
"  Oo  are  you  going  to  meet,  Bill  ? 
'Ave  you  bought  the  street,  Bill  1 " 
Laugh  I — I  thought  I  should  ha'  died 
When  I  knocked  'em  in  the  old  Kent  Road.' 

It  was  the  Admiral's  gig,  rowing  softly,  that  came 
into  the  midst  of  that  merry  little  smoking-concert. 
It  was  Judson,  the  beribboned  mandolin  round  his 
neck,  who  received  the  Admiral  as  he  came  up  the 
side  of  the  Guadala,  and  it  may  or  may  not  have 
been  the  Admiral  who  stayed  till  two  in  the  morn- 
ing and  delighted  the  hearts  of  the  Captain  and  the 
Governor.  He  had  come  as  an  unbidden  guest,  and 
he  departed  as  an  honoured  one,  but  strictly  unoffi- 
cial throughout.  Judson  told  his  tale  next  day  in 
the  Admiral's  cabin  as  well  as  he  could  in  the  face 
of  the  Admiral's  gales  of  laughter,  but  the  most 
amazing  tale  was  that  told  by  Mr.  Davies  to  his 
friends  in  the  dockyard  at  Simon's  Town  from  the 
point  of  view  of  a  second-class  engine-room  artificer, 
all  unversed  in  diplomacy. 


JUDSON  AND   THE  EMPIEE.  399 

And  if  there  be  no  truth  either  in  my  tale,  which 
is  Judson's  tale,  or  the  tales  of  Mr.  Davies,  you  will 
not  find  in  harbour  at  Simon's  Town  to-day  a  flat- 
bottomed  twin-screw  gunboat,  designed  solely  for 
the  defence  of  rivers,  about  two  hundred  and  seventy 
tons  displacement  and  five  feet  draught,  wearing  in 
open  defiance  of  the  rules  of  the  Service  a  gold  line 
on  her  gray  paint.  It  follows  also  that  you  will  be 
compelled  to  credit  that  version  of  the  fray  which, 
signed  by  His  Excellency  the  Governor  and  de- 
spatched in  the  Guadala,  satisfied  the  self-love  of  a 
great  and  glorious  people,  and  saved  a  monarchy 
from  the  ill-considered  despotism  which  is  called  a 
Republic. 


THE  CHILDREN  OF  THE  ZODIAC. 

Though  thou  love  her  as  thyself, 
As  a  self  of  purer  clay, 
Though  her  parting  dim  the  day, 
Stealing  grace  from  all  alive, 

Heartily  know 

When  half  Gods  go 
The  Gods  arrive.  EMERSON. 

THOUSANDS  of  years  ago,  when  men  were  greater 
than  they  are  to-day,  the  Children  of  the  Zodiac 
lived  in  the  world.  There  were  six  Children  of  the 
Zodiac — the  Ram,  the  Bull,  the  Lion,  the  Twins,  and 
the  Girl;  and  they  were  afraid  of  the  Six  Houses 
which  belonged  to  the  Scorpion,  the  Balance,  the 
Crab,  the  Fishes,  the  Goat,  and  the  Waterman. 
Even  when  they  first  stepped  down  upon  the  earth 
and  knew  that  they  were  immortal  Gods,  they  car- 
ried this  fear  with  them ;  and  the  fear  grew  as  they 
became  better  acquainted  with  mankind  and  heard 
stories  of  the  Six  Houses.  Men  treated  the  Children 
as  Gods  and  came  to  them  with  prayers  and  long 
stories  of  wrong,  while  the  Children  of  the  Zodiac 
listened  and  could  not  understand. 


Copyright,  1891,  by  Harper  &  Brothers. 


THE  CHILDREN   OF  THE  ZODIAC.  401 

A  mother  would  fling  herself  before  the  feet  of 
the  Twins,  or  the  Bull,  crying :  '  My  husband  was 
at  work  in  the  fields  and  the  Archer  shot  him  and 
he  died ;  and  my  son  will  also  be  killed  by  the 
Archer.  Help  me ! '  The  Bull  would  lower  his 
huge  head  and  answer :  '  What  is  that  to  me  ? '  Or 
the  Twins  would  smile  and  continue  their  play,  for 
they  could  not  understand  why  the  water  ran  out  of 
people's  eyes.  At  other  times  a  man  and  a  woman 
would  come  to  Leo  or  the  Girl  crying :  '  We  two  are 
newly  married  and  we  are  very  happy.  Take  these 
flowers.'  As  they  threw  the  flowers  they  would 
make  mysterious  sounds  to  show  that  they  were 
happy,  and  Leo  and  the  Girl  wondered  even  more 
than  the  Twins  why  people  shouted  '  Ha !  ha !  ha ! ' 
for  no  cause. 

This  continued  for  thousands  of  years  by  human 
reckoning,  till  on  a  day,  Leo  met  the  Girl  walking 
across  the  hills  and  saw  that  she  had  changed  en- 
tirely since  he  had  last  seen  her.  The  Girl,  looking 
at  Leo,  saw  that  he  too  had  changed  altogether. 
Then  they  decided  that  it  would  be  well  never  to 
separate  again,  in  case  even  more  startling  changes 
should  occur  when  the  one  was  not  at  hand  to  help 
the  other.  Leo  kissed  the  Girl  and  all  Earth  felt 
that  kiss,  and  the  Girl  sat  down  on  a  hill  and  the 
water  ran  out  of  her  eyes ;  and  this  had  never  hap- 
pened before  in  the  memory  of  the  Children  of  the 
Zodiac. 


402  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

As  they  sat  together  a  man  and  a  woman  came 
by,  and  the  man  said  to  the  woman : 

*  What  is  the  use  of  wasting  flowers  on  those 
dull  Gods.  They  will  never  understand,  dar- 

ling/ 

The  Girl  jumped  up  and  put  her  arms  round  the 
woman,  crying, '  I  understand.  Give  me  the  flowers 
and  I  will  give  you  a  kiss/ 

Leo  said  beneath  his  breath  to  the  man :  '  What 
was  the  new  name  that  I  heard  you  give  to  your 
woman  just  now  ? ' 

The  man  answered, '  Darling,  of  course/ 

'Why,  of  course/  said  Leo;  'and  if  of  course, 
what  does  it  mean  ? ' 

'  It  means  "  very  dear,"  and  you  have  only  to  look 
at  your  wife  to  see  why/ 

'  I  see/  said  Leo ; '  you  are  quite  Tight ; '  and  when 
the  man  and  the  woman  had  gone  on  he  called  the 
Girl '  darling  wife ' ;  and  the  Girl  wept  again  from 
sheer  happiness. 

'I  think/  she  said  at  last,  wiping  her  eyes,  'I 
think  that  we  two  have  neglected  men  and  women 
too  much.  What  did  you  do  with  the  sacrifices  they 
made  to  you,  Leo  ? ' 

'  I  let  them  burn/  said  Leo.  '  I  could  not  eat 
them.  What  did  you  do  with  the  flowers  ? ' 

'  I  let  them  wither.  I  could  not  wear  them,  I 
had  so  many  of  my  own/  said  the  Girl, '  and  now  I 
am  sorry/ 


THE   CHILDREN   OF  THE  ZODIAC.  403 

*  There  is  nothing  to  grieve  for/  said  Leo  ;  '  we 
belong  to  each  other.' 

As  they  were  talking  the  years  of  men's  life 
slipped  by  unnoticed,  and  presently  the  man  and  the 
woman  came  back,  both  white-headed,  the  man  car- 
rying the  woman. 

'  We  have  come  to  the  end  of  things/  said  the 
man  quietly.  '  This  that  was  my  wife — ' 

'  As  I  am  Leo's  wife/  said  the  Girl  quickly,  her 
eyes  staring. 

*  — was  my  wife,  has  been  killed  by  one  of  your 
Houses.'      The    man    set    down    his    burden,    and 
laughed. 

'  Which  House  ? '  said  Leo  angrily,  for  he  hated 
all  the  Houses  equally. 

*  You  are  Gods,  you  should  know/  said  the  man. 
'  We  have  lived  together  and  loved  one  another,  and 
I  have  left  a  good  farm  for  my  son :  what  have  I  to 
complain  of  except  that  I  still  live  ? ' 

As  he  was  bending  over  his  wife's  body  there 
came  a  whistling  through  the  air,  and  he  started 
and  tried  to  run  away,  crying, '  It  is  the  arrow  of  the 
Archer.  Let  me  live  a  little  longer — only  a  little 
longer  ! '  The  arrow  struck  him  and  he  died.  Leo 
looked  at  the  Girl  and  she  looked  at  him,  and  both 
were  puzzled. 

'  He  wished  to  die/  said  Leo.  '  He  said  that  he 
wished  to  die,  and  when  Death  came  he  tried  to  run 
away.  He  is  a  coward.' 


404  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

'  No,  he  is  not/  said  the  Girl ;  '  I  think  I  feel  what 
he  felt.  Leo,  we  must  learn  more  about  this  for 
their  sakes.' 

'  For  their  sakes,'  said  Leo,  very  loudly. 

'  Because  we  are  never  going  to  die/  said  the  Girl 
and  Leo  together,  still  more  loudly. 

'  Now  sit  you  still  here,  darling  wife/  said  Leo, 
'  while  I  go  to  the  Houses  whom  we  hate,  and  learn 
how  to  make  these  men  and  women  live  as  we  do/ 

'  And  love  as  we  do  ? '  said  the  Girl. 

'  I  do  not  think  they  need  to  be  taught  that/ 
said  Leo,  and  he  strode  away  very  angry,  with  his 
lion-skin  swinging  from  his  shoulder,  till  he  came  to 
the  House  where  the  Scorpion  lives  in  the  darkness, 
brandishing  his  tail  over  his  back. 

*  Why  do  you  trouble  the  children  of  men  ? '  said 
Leo,  with  his  heart  between  his  teeth. 

'  Are  you  so  sure  that  I  trouble  the  children  of 
men  alone  ? '  said  the  Scorpion.  '  Speak  to  your 
brother  the  Bull,  and  see  what  he  says.' 

'  I  come  on  behalf  of  the  children  of  men/  said 
Leo.  '  I  have  learned  to  love  as  they  do,  and  I  wish 
them  to  live  as  I — as  we — do.' 

'  Your  wish  was  granted  long  ago.  Speak  to  the 
Bull.  He  is  under  my  special  care/  said  the  Scor- 
pion. 

Leo  dropped  back  to  the  earth  again,  and  saw  the 
great  star  Aldebaran,  that  is  set  in  the  forehead  of 
the  Bull,  blazing  very  near  to  the  earth.  When  he 


THE  CHILDREN   OF  THE  ZODIAC.  405 

came  up  to  it  he  saw  that  his  brother  the  Bull,  yoked 
to  a  countryman's  plough,  was  toiling  through  a  wet 
rice-field  with  his  head  bent  down,  and  the  sweat 
streaming  from  his  flanks.  The  countryman  was 
urging  him  forward  with  a  goad. 

'  Gore  that  insolent  to  death/  cried  Leo, '  and  for 
the  sake  of  our  family  honour  come  out  of  the  mire/ 

'  I  cannot/  said  the  Bull, '  the  Scorpion  has  told 
me  that  some  day,  of  which  I  cannot  be  sure,  he  will 
sting  me  where  my  neck  is  set  on  my  shoulders,  and 
that  I  shall  die  bellowing/ 

'  What  has  that  to  do  with  this  disgraceful  exhi- 
bition ? '  said  Leo,  standing  on  the  dyke  that  bound- 
ed the  wet  field. 

'  Everything.  This  man  could  not  plough  with- 
out my  help.  He  thinks  that  I  am  a  stray  bullock/ 

1  But  he  is  a  mud-crusted  cottar  with  matted 
hair/  insisted  Leo.  '  "We  are  not  meant  for  his  use/ 

*  You  may  not  be ;  I  am.  I  cannot  tell  when 
the  Scorpion  may  choose  to  sting  me  to  death — per- 
haps before  I  have  turned  this  furrow.'  The  Bull 
flung  his  bulk  into  the  yoke,  and  the  plough  tore 
through  the  wet  ground  behind  him,  and  the  coun- 
tryman goaded  him  till  his  flanks  were  red. 

'  Do  you  like  this  ?  *  Leo  called  down  the  dripping 
furrows. 

'  No/  said  the  Bull  over  his  shoulder  as  he  lifted 
his  hind  legs  from  the  clinging  mud  and  cleared  his 
nostrils. 


406  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

Leo  left  him  scornfully  and  passed  to  another 
country,  where  he  found  his  brother  the  Ram  in  the 
centre  of  a  crowd  of  country  people  who  were  hang- 
ing wreaths  round  his  neck  and  feeding  him  on 
freshly-plucked  green  corn. 

'This  is  terrible,'  said  Leo.  'Break  up  that 
crowd  and  come  away,  my  brother.  Their  hands  are 
spoiling  your  fleece.' 

'  I  cannot/  said  the  Ram.  '  The  Archer  told  me 
that  on  some  day  of  which  I  had  no  knowledge,  he 
would  send  a  dart  through  me,  and  that  I  should  die 
in  very  great  pain/ 

'  What  has  that  to  do  with  this  ? '  said  Leo,  but 
he  did  not  speak  as  confidently  as  before. 

'  Everything  in  the  world,'  said  the  Ram.  '  These 
people  never  saw  a  perfect  sheep  before.  They  think 
that  I  am  a  stray,  and  they  will  carry  me  from  place 
to  place  as  a  model  to  all  their  flocks.' 

'But  they  are  greasy  shepherds,  we  are  not  in- 
tended to  amuse  them/  said  Leo. 

'  You  may  not  be  ;  I  am/  said  the  Ram.  '  I  can- 
not tell  when  the  Archer  may  choose  to  send  his 
arrow  at  me — perhaps  before  the  people  a  mile 
down  the  road  have  seen  me.'  The  Ram  lowered 
his  head  that  a  yokel  newly  arrived  might  throw  a 
wreath  of  wild  garlic-leaves  over  it,  and  waited 
patiently  while  the  farmers  tugged  his  fleece. 

'  Do  you  like  this  ? '  cried  Loo  over  the  shoulders 
of  the  crowd. 


THE   CHILDREN   OF  THE  ZODIAC.  407 

*  No/  said  the  Ram,  as  the  dust  of  the  trampling 
feet  made  him  sneeze,  and  he  snuffed  at  the  fodder 
piled  before  him. 

Leo  turned  back  intending  to  retrace  his  steps  to 
the  Houses,  but  as  he  was  passing  down  a  street  he 
saw  two  small  children,  very  dusty,  rolling  outside  a 
cottage  door,  and  playing  with  a  cat.  They  were  the 
Twins. 

'  What  are  you  doing  here  ? '  said  Leo,  indignant. 

'  Playing/  said  the  Twins  calmly. 

f  Cannot  you  play  on  the  banks  of  the  Milky 
Way  ? '  said  Leo. 

'  We  did/  said  they, '  till  the  Fishes  swam  down 
and  told  us  that  some  day  they  would  come  for  us 
and  not  hurt  us  at  all  and  carry  us  away.  So  now 
we  are  playing  at  being  babies  down  here.  The 
people  like  it.' 

'  Do  you  like  it  ? '  said  Leo. 

'  No/  said  the  Twins, '  but  there  are  no  cats  in  the 
Milky  Way/  and  they  pulled  the  cat's  tail  thought- 
fully. A  woman  came  out  of  the  doorway  and  stood 
behind  them,  and  Leo  saw  in  her  face  a  look  that  he 
had  sometimes  seen  in  the  Girl's. 

'  She  thinks  that  we  are  foundlings/  said  the 
Twins,  and  they  trotted  indoors  to  the  evening 
meal. 

Then  Leo  hurried  as  swiftly  as  possible  to  all  the 
Houses  one  after  another ;  for  he  could  not  under- 
stand the  new  trouble  that  had  come  to  his  brethren. 


408  MANY  INVENTIONS. 

He  spoke  to  the  Archer,  and  the  Archer  assured  him 
that  so  far  as  that  House  was  concerned  Leo  had 
nothing  to  fear.  The  Waterman,  the  Fishes,  and 
the  Goat,  gave  the  same  answer.  They  knew  noth- 
ing of  Leo,  and  cared  less.  They  were  the  Houses, 
and  they  were  busied  in  killing  men. 

At  last  he  came  to  that  very  dark  House  where 
Cancer  the  Crab  lies  so  still  that  you  might  think 
he  was  asleep  if  you  did  not  see  the  ceaseless  play 
and  winnowing  motion  of  the  feathery  branches 
round  his  mouth.  That  movement  never  ceases. 
It  is  like  the  eating  of  a  smothered  fire  into  rotten 
timber  in  that  it  is  noiseless  and  without  haste. 

Leo  stood  in  front  of  the  Crab,  and  the  half  dark- 
ness allowed  him  a  glimpse  of  that  vast  blue-black 
back,  and  the  motionless  eyes.  Now  and  again  he 
thought  that  he  heard  some  one  sobbing,  but  the 
noise  was  very  faint. 

'  Why  do  you  trouble  the  children  of  men  ? '  said 
Leo.  There  was  no  answer,  and  against  his  will  Leo 
cried,  '  Why  do  you  trouble  us  ?  What  have  we 
done  that  you  should  trouble  us  ? ' 

This  time  Cancer  replied, '  What  do  I  know  or 
care  ?  You  were  born  into  my  House,  and  at  the 
appointed  time  I  shall  come  for  you.' 

'  When  is  the  appointed  time  ? '  said  Leo,  step- 
ping back  from  the  restless  movement  of  the  mouth. 

'  When  the  full  moon  fails  to  call  the  full  tide/ 
said  the  Crab, '  I  shall  come  for  the  one.  When  the 


THE  CHILDEEN  OF  THE  ZODIAC.  409 

other  has  taken  the  earth  by  the  shoulders,  I  shall 
take  that  other  by  the  throat.' 

Leo  lifted  his  hand  to  the  apple  of  his  throat, 
moistened  his  lips,  and  recovering  himself,  said : 

*  Must  I  be  afraid  for  two,  then  ?  ' 

'  For  two,'  said  the  Crab, '  and  as  many  more  as 
may  come  after.' 

'My  brother,  the  Bull,  had  a  better  fate,'  said 
Leo,  sullenly.  '  He  is  alone.' 

A  hand  covered  his  mouth  before  he  could  finish 
the  sentence,  and  he  found  the  Girl  in  his  arms. 
Womanlike,  she  had  not  stayed  where  Leo  had  left 
her,  but  had  hastened  off  at  once  to  know  the  worst, 
and  passing  all  the  other  Houses,  had  come  straight 
to  Cancer. 

'  That  is  foolish/  said  the  Girl  whispering.  '  I 
have  been  waiting  in  the  dark  for  long  and  long  be- 
fore you  came.  Then  I  was  afraid.  But  now ' 

She  put  her  head  down  on  his  shoulder  and  sighed  a 
sigh  of  contentment. 

'  I  am  afraid  now,'  said  Leo. 

'  That  is  on  my  account,'  said  the  Girl.  '  I  know 
it  is,  because  I  am  afraid  for  your  sake.  Let  us  go, 
husband.' 

They  went  out  of  the  darkness  together  and  came 
back  to  the  Earth,  Leo  very  silent,  and  the  Girl 
striving  to  cheer  him.  '  My  brother's  fate  is  the 
better  one,'  Leo  would  repeat  from  time  to  time,  and 
at  last  he  said :  (  Let  us  each  go  our  own  way  and 


410  MANY  INVENTIONS. 

live  alone  till  we  die.  We  were  born  into  the  House 
of  Cancer,  and  he  will  come  for  us/ 

'  I  know ;  I  know.  But  where  shall  I  go  ?  And 
where  will  you  sleep  in  the  evening  ?  But  let  us 
try.  I  will  stay  here.  Do  you  go  on  ? ' 

Leo  took  six  steps  forward  very  slowly,  and  three 
long  steps  backward  very  quickly,  and  the  third 
step  set  him  again  at  the  Girl's  side.  This  time  it 
was  she  who  was  begging  him  to  go  away  and  leave 
her,  and  he  was  forced  to  comfort  her  all  through 
the  night.  That  night  decided  them  both  never  to 
leave  each  other  for  an  instant,  and  when  they  had 
come  to  this  decision  they  looked  back  at  the  dark- 
ness of  the  House  of  Cancer  high  above  their  heads, 
and  with  their  arms  round  each  other's  necks 
laughed,  'Ha!  ha!  ha!'  exactly  as  the  children  of 
men  laughed.  And  that  was  the  first  time  in  their 
lives  that  they  had  ever  laughed. 

Next  morning  they  returned  to  their  proper 
home  and  saw  the  flowers  and  the  sacrifices  that 
had  been  laid  before  their  doors  by  the  villagers  of 
the  hills.  Leo  stamped  down  the  fire  with  his  heel 
and  the  Girl  flung  the  flower-wreaths  out  of  sight, 
shuddering  as  she  did  so.  When  the  villagers  re- 
turned, as  of  custom,  to  see  what  had  become  of 
their  offerings,  they  found  neither  roses  nor  burned 
flesh  on  the  altars,  but  only  a  man  and  a  woman, 
with  frightened  white  faces  sitting  hand  in  hand  on 
the  altar-steps. 


THE   CHILDREN   OF  THE  ZODIAC.  411 

'  Are  you  not  Virgo  ? '  said  a  woman  to  the  Girl. 
'  I  sent  you  flowers  yesterday/ 

'  Little  sister/  said  the  Girl,  flushing  to  her  fore- 
head, '  do  not  send  any  more  flowers,  for  I  am  only  a 
woman  like  yourself.'  The  man  and  the  woman 
went  away  doubtfully. 

1  Now,  what  shall  we  do  ? '  said  Leo. 

'We  must  try  to  be  cheerful,  I  think/  said 
the  Girl.  'We  know  the  very  worst  that  can 
happen  to  us,  but  we  do  not  know  the  best  that 
love  can  bring  us.  We  have  a  great  deal  to  be 
glad  of.' 

'  The  certainty  of  death  ? '  said  Leo. 

'All  the  children  of  men  have  that  certainty 
also;  yet  they  laughed  long  before  we  ever  knew 
how  to  laugh.  We  must  learn  to  laugh,  Leo.  We 
have  laughed  once,  already.' 

People  who  consider  themselves  Gods,  as  the 
Children  of  the  Zodiac  did,  find  it  hard  to  laugh, 
because  the  Immortals  know  nothing  worth  laugh- 
ter or  tears.  Leo  rose  up  with  a  very  heavy  heart, 
and  he  and  the  girl  together  went  to  and  fro  among 
men;  their  new  fear  of  death  behind  them.  First 
they  laughed  at  a  naked  baby  attempting  to  thrust 
its  fat  toes  into  its  foolish  pink  mouth ;  next  they 
laughed  at  a  kitten  chasing  her  own  tail;  and 
then  they  laughed  at  a  boy  trying  to  steal  a  kiss 
from  a  girl,  and  getting  his  ears  boxed.  Lastly, 

they  laughed  because  the  wind  blew  in  their  faces 
27 


412  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

as  they  ran  down  a  hill-side  together,  and  broke 
panting  and  breathless  into  a  knot  of  villagers  at 
the  bottom.  The  villagers  laughed  too  at  their 
flying  clothes  and  wind-reddened  faces ;  and  in  the 
evening  gave  them  food  and  invited  them  to  a  dance 
on  the  grass,  where  everybody  laughed  through  the 
mere  joy  of  being  able  to  dance. 

That  night  Leo  jumped  up  from  the  Girl's  side 
crying :  '  Every  one  of  those  people  we  met  just  now 
will  die ' 

'  So  shall  we/  said  the  Girl  sleepily.  '  Lie  down 
again,  dear/  Leo  could  not  see  that  her  face  was 
wet  with  tears. 

But  Leo  was  up  and  far  across  the  fields,  driven 
forward  by  the  fear  of  death  for  himself  and  for  the 
Girl,  who  was  dearer  to  him  than  himself.  Present- 
ly he  came  across  the  Bull  drowsing  in  the  moon- 
light after  a  hard  day's  work,  and  looking  through 
half-shut  eyes  at  the  beautiful  straight  furrows 
that  he  had  made. 

'Ho!'  said  the  Bull.  'So  you  have  been  told 
these  things  too.  Which  of  the  Houses  holds  your 
death  ? ' 

Leo  pointed  upwards  to  the  dark  House  of  the 
Crab  and  groaned.  '  And  he  will  come  for  the  Girl 
too/  he  said. 

'  Well/  said  the  Bull, '  what  will  you  do  ?  > 

Leo  sat  down  on  the  dike  and  said  that  he  did  not 
know. 


THE  CHILDKEIST   OF  THE  ZODIAC.  413 

'  You  cannot  pull  a  plough/  said  the  Bull,  with  a 
little  touch  of  contempt.  '  I  can,  and  that  prevents 
me  from  thinking  of  the  Scorpion/ 

Leo  was  angry,  and  said  nothing  till  the  dawn 
broke,  and  the  cultivator  came  to  yoke  the  Bull  to 
his  work. 

'  Sing,'  said  the  Bull,  as  the  stiff,  muddy  ox- bow 
creaked  and  strained.  e  My  shoulder  is  galled. 
Sing  one  of  the  songs  that  we  sang  when  we  thought 
we  were  all  Gods  together.' 

Leo  stepped  back  into  the  canebrake,  and  lifted 
up  his  voice  in  a  song  of  the  Children  of  the  Zo- 
diac— the  war-whoop  of  the  young  Gods  who  are 
afraid  of  nothing.  At  first  he  dragged  the  song 
along  unwillingly,  and  then  the  song  dragged  him, 
and  his  voice  rolled  across  the  fields,  and  the  Bull 
stepped  to  the  tune,  and  the  cultivator  banged  his 
flanks  out  of  sheer  light-heartedness,  and  the  fur- 
rows rolled  away  behind  the  plough  more  and  more 
swiftly.  Then  the  Girl  came  across  the  fields  look- 
ing for  Leo,  and  found  him  singing  in  the  cane. 
She  joined  her  voice  to  his,  and  the  cultivator's  wife 
brought  her  spinning  into  the  open  and  listened 
with  all  her  children  round  her.  When  it  was  time 
for  the  nooning,  Leo  and  the  Girl  had  sung  them- 
selves both  thirsty  and  hungry,  but  the  cultiva- 
tor and  his  wife  gave  them  rye  bread  and  milk, 
and  many  thanks ;  and  the  Bull  found  occasion 
to  say : 


414  MANY  INVENTIONS. 

'  You  have  helped  me  to  do  a  full  half  field  more 
than  I  should  have  done.  But  the  hardest  part  of 
the  day  is  to  come,  brother.' 

Leo  wished  to  lie  down  and  brood  over  the  words 
of  the  Crab.  The  Girl  went  away  to  talk  to  the  cul- 
tivator's wife  and  baby,  and  the  afternoon  ploughing 
began. 

'  Help  us  now,'  said  the  Bull.  '  The  tides  of  the 
day  are  running  down.  My  legs  are  very  stiff. 
Sing,  if  you  never  sang  before/ 

'  To  a  mud-spattered  villager  ?  ''said  Leo. 

'  He  is  under  the  same  doom  as  ourselves.  Are 
you  a  coward  ?'  said  the  Bull. 

Leo  flushed,  and  began  again  with  a  sore  throat 
and  a  bad  temper.  Little  by  little  he  dropped  away 
from  the  songs  of  the  Children  and  made  up  a  song 
as  he  went  along;  and  this  was  a  thing  he  could 
never  have  done  had  he  not  met  the  Crab  face  to 
face.  He  remembered  facts  concerning  cultivators 
and  bullocks  and  rice-fields  that  he  had  not  particu- 
larly noticed  before  the  interview,  and  he  strung 
them  all  together,  growing  more  interested  as  he 
sang,  and  he  told  the  cultivator  much  more  about 
himself  and  his  work  than  the  cultivator  knew.  The 
Bull  grunted  approval  as  he  toiled  down  the  furrows 
for  the  last  time  that  day,  and  the  song  ended,  leav- 
ing the  cultivator  with  a  very  good  opinion  of  him- 
self in  his  aching  bones.  The  Girl  came  out  of  the 
hut  where  she  had  been  keeping  the  children  quiet, 


THE  CHILDREN   OF  THE  ZODIAC.  415 

and  talking  woman-talk  to  the  wife,  and  they  all  ate 
the  evening  meal  together. 

'  Now  yours  must  be  a  very  pleasant  life/  said 
the  cultivator ;  '  sitting  as  you  do  on  a  dyke  all  day 
and  singing  just  what  comes  into  your  head.  Have 
you  been  at  it  long,  you  two — gipsies  ? ' 

'  Ah  ! '  lowed  the  Bull  from  his  byre.  '  That's  all 
the  thanks  you  will  ever  get  from  men,  brother/ 

'  No.  We  have  only  just  begun  it/  said  the  Girl ; 
'  but  we  are  going  to  keep  to  it  as  long  as  we  live. 
Are  we  not,  Leo  ?  * 

'Yes/  said  he;  and  they  went  away  hand  in 
hand. 

'You  can  sing  beautifully,  Leo/  said  she,  as  a 
wife  will  to  her  husband. 

'  What  were  you  doing  ? '  said  he. 

'  I  was  talking  to  the  mother  and  the  babies/  she 
said.  '  You  would  not  understand  the  little  things 
that  make  us  women  laugh/ 

'  And — and  I  am  to  go  on  with  this — this  gipsy 
work  ? '  said  Leo. 

'  Yes,  dear ;  and  I  will  help  you/ 

There  is  no  written  record  of  the  life  of  Leo  and 
of  the  Girl,  so  we  cannot  tell  how  Leo  took  to  his 
new  employment,  which  he  detested.  We  are  only 
sure  that  the  Girl  loved  him  when  and  wherever 
he  sang;  even  when,  after  the  song  was  done,  she 
went  round  with  the  equivalent  of  a  tambourine  and 
collected  the  pence  for  the  daily  bread.  There  were 


416  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

times,  too,  when  it  was  Leo's  very  hard  task  to  con- 
sole the  Girl  for  the  indignity  of  horrible  praise  that 
people  gave  him  and  her — for  the  silly  wagging  pea- 
cock feathers  that  they  stuck  in  his  cap,  and  the 
buttons  and  pieces  of  cloth  that  they  sewed  on  his 
coat.  Woman-like,  she  could  advise  and  help  to  the 
end,  but  the  meanness  of  the  means  revolted. 

'  What  does  it  matter/  Leo  would  say, '  so  long  as 
the  songs  make  them  a  little  happier  ? '  And  they 
would  go  down  the  road  and  begin  again  on  the  old, 
old  refrain — that  whatever  came  or  did  not  come  the 
children  of  men  must  not  be  afraid.  It  was  heavy 
teaching  at  first,  but  in  process  of  years  Leo  discov- 
ered that  he  could  make  men  laugh  and  hold  them 
listening  to  him  even  when  the  rain  fell.  Yet  there 
were  people  who  would  sit  down  and  cry  softly, 
though  the  crowd  was  yelling  with  delight,  and 
there  were  people  who  maintained  that  Leo  made 
them  do  this ;  and  the  Girl  would  talk  to  them  in 
the  pauses  of  the  performance  and  do  her  best  to 
comfort  them.  People  would  die,  too,  while  Leo 
was  talking  and  singing  and  laughing;  for  the 
Archer  and  the  Scorpion  and  the  Crab  and  the  other 
Houses  were  as  busy  as  ever.  Sometimes  the  crowd 
broke,  and  were  frightened,  and  Leo  strove  to  keep 
them  steady  by  telling  them  that  this  was  cowardly ; 
and  sometimes  they  mocked  at  the  Houses  that  were 
killing  them,  and  Leo  explained  that  this  was  even 
more  cowardly  than  running  away. 


THE  CHILDREN   OF  THE  ZODIAC.  417 

v 

In  their  wanderings  they  came  across  the  Bull, 
or  the  Ram,  or  the  Twins,  but  all  were  too  busy  to 
do  more  than  nod  to  each  other  across  the  crowd, 
and  go  on  with  their  work.     As  the  years  rolled  on 
even  that  recognition  ceased,  for  the  Children  of  the 
Zodiac  had  forgotten  that  they  had  ever  been  Gods 
working  for  the  sake  of  men.    The  star  Aldebaran- 
was  crusted  with  caked  dirt  on  the  Bull's  forehead, 
the  Ram's  fleece  was  dusty  and  torn,  and  the  Twins 
were  only  babies  fighting  over  the  cat  on  the  door- 
step.   It  was  then  that  Leo  said, '  Let  us  stop  sing- 
ing and  making  jokes.'    And  it  was  then  that  the 
Girl  said, '  No.'    But  she  did  not  know  why  she  said 
'  No '  so  energetically.     Leo  maintained  that  it  was 
perversity,  till  she  herself,  at  the  end  of  a  dusty  day, 
made  the  same  suggestion  to  him,  and  he  said, '  Most 
certainly  not!'  and  they  quarrelled  miserably  be- 
tween the  hedgerows,  forgetting  the  meaning  of  the 
stars  above  them.     Other  singers  and  other  talkers 
sprang  up  in  the  course  of  the  years,  and  Leo,  for- 
getting that  there  could  never  be  too  many  of  these, 
hated  them  for  dividing  the  applause  of  the  children 
of  men,  which  he  thought  should  be  all  his  own. 
The  Girl  would  grow  angry  too,  and  then  the  songs 
would  be  broken,  and  the  jests  fall  flat  for  weeks  to 
come,  and  the  children  of  men  would  shout:   'Go 
home,  you  two  gipsies.    Go  home  and  learn  some- 
thing worth  singing ! ' 

After  one  of  these  sorrowful,  shameful  days,  the 


418  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

Girl,  walking  by  Leo's  side  through  the  fields,  saw 
the  full  moon  coming  up  over  the  trees,  and  she 
clutched  Leo's  arm,  crying:  'The  time  has  come 
now.  Oh,  Leo,  forgive  me ! ' 

'  What  is  it  ? '  said  Leo.  He  was  thinking  of  the 
other  singers. 

'My  husband!*  she  answered,  and  she  laid  his 
hand  upon  her  breast,  and  the  breast  that  he  knew 
so  well  was  hard  as  stone.  Leo  groaned,  remember- 
ing what  the  Crab  had  said. 

'  Surely  we  were  Gods  once/  he  cried. 

'Surely  we  are  Gods  still/  said  the  Girl.  'Do 
you  not  remember  when  you  and  I  went  to  the 
House  of  the  Crab  and — were  not  very  much  afraid  ? 
And  since  then  .  .  .  we  have  forgotten  what  we  were 
singing  for — we  sang  for  the  pence,  and,  oh,  we 
fought  for  them ! — We,  who  are  the  Children  of  the 
Zodiac ! ' 

'  It  was  my  fault/  said  Leo. 

'  How  can  there  be  any  fault  of  yours  that  is  not 
mine  too  ?'  said  the  Girl.  'My  time  has  come,  but 
you  will  live  longer,  and  .  .  .'  The  look  in  her  eyes 
said  all  she  could  not  say. 

'  Yes,  I  will  remember  that  we  are  Gods/  said  Leo. 

It  is  very  hard,  even  for  a  child  of  the  Zodiac  who 
has  forgotten  his  Godhead,  to  see  his  wife  dying 
slowly,  and  to  know  that  he  cannot  help  her.  The 
Girl  told  Leo  in  those  last  months  of  all  that  she  had 
said  and  done  among  the  wives  and  the  babies  at  the 


THE   CHILDREN   OF   THE  ZODIAC.  419 

back  of  the  roadside  performances,  and  Leo  was  .as- 
tonished that  he  knew  so  little  of  her  who  had  been 
so  much  to  him.  When  she  was  dying  she  told  him 
never  to  fight  for  pence  or  quarrel  with  the  other 
singers;  and,  above  all,  to  go  on  with  his  singing 
immediately  after  she  was  dead. 

Then  she  died,  and  after  he  had  buried  her  he 
went  down  the  road  to  a  village  that  he  knew,  and 
the  people  hoped  that  he  would  begin  quarrelling, 
with  a  new  singer  that  had  sprung  up  while  he  had 
been  away.  But  Leo  called  him  '  my  brother.'  The 
new  singer  was  newly  married — and  Leo  knew  it — 
and  when  he  had  finished  singing  Leo  straightened 
himself,  and  sang  the  '  Song  of  the  Girl/  which  he 
had  made  coming  down  the  road.  Every  man  who 
was  married,  or  hoped  to  be  married,  whatever  his 
rank  or  colour,  understood  that  song — even  the  bride 
leaning  on  the  new  husband's  arm  understood  it  too 
— and  presently  when  the  song  ended,  and  Leo's 
heart  was  bursting  in  him,  the  men  sobbed.  '  That 
was  a  sad  tale,'  they  said  at  last,  'now  make  us 
laugh.'  Because  Leo  had  known  all  the  sorrow  that 
a  man  could  know,  including  the  full  knowledge  of 
his  own  fall  who  had  once  been  a  God — he,  chang- 
ing his  song  quickly,  made  the  people  laugh  till 
they  could  laugh  no  more.  They  went  away  feel- 
ing ready  for  any  trouble  in  reason,  and  they  gave 
Leo  more  peacock  feathers  and  pence  than  he  could 
count.  Knowing  that  pence  led  to  quarrels  and  that 


420  MANY  INVENTIONS. 

peacock  feathers  were  hateful  to  the  Girl,  he  put 
them  aside  and  went  away  to  look  for  his  brothers, 
to  remind  them  that  they  too  were  Gods. 

He  found  the  Bull  goring  the  undergrowth  in  a 
ditch,  for  the  Scorpion  had  stung  him,  and  he  was 
dying,  not  slowly,  as  the  Girl  had  died,  but  quickly. 

*  I  know  all/  the  Bull  groaned,  as  Leo  came  up. 
'  I  had  forgotten  too,  but  I  remember  now.  Go  and 
look  at  the  fields  I  ploughed.  The  furrows  are 
straight.  I  forgot  that  I  was  a  God,  but  I  drew  the 
plough  perfectly  straight,  for  all  that.  And  you, 
brother?' 

'  I  am  not  at  the  end  of  the  ploughing/  said  Leo. 
'  Does  Death  hurt  ? ' 

'  No ;  but  dying  does/  said  the  Bull,  and  he  died. 
The  cultivator  who  then  owned  him  was  much  an- 
noyed, for  there  was  a  field  still  unploughed. 

It  was  after  this  that  Leo  made  the  Song  of  the 
Bull  who  had  been  a  God  and  forgotten  the  fact,  and 
he  sang  it  in  such  a  manner  that  half  the  young  men 
in  the  world  conceived  that  they  too  might  be  Gods 
without  knowing  it.  A  half  of  that  half  grew  im- 
possibly conceited,  and  died  early.  A  half  of  the 
remainder  strove  to  be  Gods  and  failed,  but  the 
other  half  accomplished  four  times  more  work  than 
they  would  have  done  under  any  other  delusion. 

Later,  years  later,  always  wandering  up  and 
down,  and  making  the  children  of  men  laugh,  he 
found  the  Twins  sitting  on  the  bank  of  a  stream 


THE  CHILDREN   OF  THE  ZODIAC.  421 

waiting  for  the  Fishes  to  come  and  carry  them  away. 
They  were  not  in  the  least  afraid,  and  they  told  Leo 
that  the  woman  of  the  House  had  a  real  baby  of  her 
own,  and  that  when  that  baby  grew  old  enough  to 
be  mischievous  he  would  find  a  well-educated  cat 
waiting  to  have  its  tail  pulled.  Then  the  Fishes 
came  for  them,  but  all  that  the  people  saw  was  two 
children  drowning  in  a  brook;  and  though  their 
foster-mother  was  very  sorry,  she  hugged  her  own 
real  baby  to  her  breast,  and  was  grateful  that  it  was 
only  the  foundlings. 

Then  Leo  made  the  Song  of  the  Twins  who  had 
forgotten  that  they  were  Gods,  and  had  played  in  the 
dust  to  amuse  a  foster-mother.  That  song  was  sung 
far  and  wide  among  the  women.  It  caused  them  to 
laugh  and  cry  and  hug  their  babies  closer  to  their 
hearts  all  in  one  breath;  and  some  of  the  women 
who  remembered  the  Girl  said :  *  Surely  that  is  the 
voice  of  Virgo.  Only  she  could  know  so  much 
about  ourselves.' 

After  those  three  songs  were  made,  Leo  sang 
them  over  and  over  again,  till  he  was  in  danger  of 
looking  upon  them  as  so  many  mere  words,  and  the 
people  who  listened  grew  tired,  and  there  came  back 
to  Leo  the  old  temptation  to  stop  singing  once  and 
for  all.  But  he  remembered  the  Girl's  dying  words 
and  went  on. 

One  of  his  listeners  interrupted  him  as  he  was 
singing.  *  Leo,'  said  he, '  I  have  heard  you  telling  us 


422  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

not  to  be  afraid  for  the  past  forty  years.  Can  you 
not  sing  something  new  now  ? ' 

'  No/  said  Leo ;  '  it  is  the  only  song  that  I  am 
allowed  to  sing.  You  must  not  be  afraid  of  the 
Houses,  even  when  they  kill  you.' 

The  man  turned  to  go,  wearily,  but  there  came  a 
whistling  through  the  air,  and  the  arrow  of  the 
Archer  was  seen  skimming  low  above  the  earth, 
pointing  to  the  man's  heart.  He  drew  himself  up, 
and  stood  still  waiting  till  the  arrow  struck  home. 

'  I  die,'  he  said,  quietly.  '  It  is  well  for  me,  Leo, 
that  you  sang  for  forty  years.' 

'  Are  you  afraid  ? '  said  Leo,  bending  over  him. 

'  I  am  a  man,  not  a  God,'  said  the  man.  '  I  should 
have  run  away  but  for  your  Songs.  My  work  is 
done,  and  I  die  without  making  a  show  of  my  fear.' 

'  I  am  very  well  paid,'  said  Leo  to  himself.  '  Now 
that  I  see  what  my  songs  are  doing,  I  will  sing  bet- 
ter ones.' 

He  went  down  the  road,  collected  his  little  knot 
of  listeners,  and  began  the  Song  of  the  Girl.  In  the 
middle  of  his  singing  he  felt  the  cold  touch  of  the 
Crab's  claw  on  the  apple  of  his  throat.  He  lifted 
his  hand,  choked,  and  stopped  for  an  instant. 

'Sing  on,  Leo,'  said  the  crowd.  'The  old  song 
runs  as  well  as  ever  it  did.' 

Leo  went  on  steadily  till  the  end,  with  the  cold 
fear  at  his  heart.  When  his  song  was  ended,  he  felt 
the  grip  on  his  throat  tighten.  He  was  old,  he  had 


THE  CHILDKEN   OF  THE  ZODIAC.  423 

lost  the  Girl,  lie  knew  that  he  was  losing  more  than 
half  his  power  to  sing,  he  could  scarcely  walk  to  the 
diminishing  crowds  that  waited  for  him,  and  could 
not  see  their  faces  when  they  stood  about  him.  None 
the  less  he  cried  angrily  to  the  Crab, 

'  Why  have  you  come  for  me  now  9' 

'  You  were  born  under  my  care.  How  can  I  help 
coming  for  you  ? '  said  the  Crab,  wearily.  Every 
human  being  whom  the  Crab  killed  had  asked  that 
same  question. 

'But  I  was  just  beginning  to  know  what  my 
songs  were  doing/  said  Leo. 

'  Perhaps  that  is  why/  said  the  Crab,  and  the  grip 
tightened. 

'  You  said  you  would  not  come  till  I  had  taken 
the  world  by  the  shoulders/  gasped  Leo,  falling 
back. 

'  I  always  keep  my  word.  You  have  done  that 
three  times,  with  three  songs.  What  more  do  you 
desire  ? ' 

'  Let  me  live  to  see  the  world  know  it/  pleaded 
Leo.  '  Let  me  be  sure  that  my  songs — ' 

'  Make  men  brave  ? '  said  the  Crab.  '  Even  then 
there  would  be  one  man  who  was  afraid.  The  Girl 
was  braver  than  you  are.  Come.' 

Leo  was  standing  close  to  the  restless,  insatiable 
mouth.  '  I  forgot/  said  he,  simply.  '  The  Girl  was 
braver.  But  I  am  a  God  too,  and  I  am  not  afraid/ 

' What  is  that  to  me  ? '  said  the  Crab. 


424  MANY  INVENTIONS. 

Then  Leo's  speech  was  taken  from  him,  and  he 
lay  still  and  dumb,  watching  Death  till  he  died. 

Leo  was  the  last  of  the  Children  of  the  Zodiac. 
After  his  death  there  sprang  up  a  breed  of  little  mean 
men,  whimpering  and  flinching  and  howling  because 
the  Houses  killed  them  and  theirs,  who  wished  to 
live  forever  without  any  pain.  They  did  not  in- 
crease their  lives,  but  they  increased  their  own  tor- 
ments miserably,  and  there  were  no  Children  of  the 
Zodiac  to  guide  them,  and  the  greater  part  of  Leo's 
songs  were  lost. 

Only  he  had  carved  on  the  Girl's  tombstone  the 
last  verse  of  the  Song  of  the  Girl,  which  stands  at 
the  head  of  this  story. 

One  of  the  children  of  men,  coming  thousands  of 
years  later,  rubbed  away  the  lichen,  read  the  lines, 
and  applied  them  to  a  trouble  other  than  the  one 
Leo  meant.  Being  a  man,  men  believed  that  he  had 
made  the  verses  himself ;  but  they  belong  to  Leo,  the 
Child  of  the  Zodiac,  and  teach,  as  he  taught,  that 
what  comes  or  does  not  come,  we  must  not  be  afraid. 


ENVOY. 

HEH  !     Walk  her  round !     Heave,  ah,  heave  her 

short  again — 
Over — snatch  her  over  there,  and  hold  her  on  the 

pawl — 

Loose  all  sail,  and  brace  your  yards  aback  and  full. 
Ready  jib  to  pay  her  off,  and  heave  short  all ! 

Well,  ah,  fare  you  well !    We  can  stay  no  more  with 

you,  my  love ! 

Down,  set  down  your  liquor,  and  your  girl  from 
off  your  knee, 

For  the  wind  has  come  to  say : 
*  You  must  take  me  while  you  may, 
If  you'd  go  to  Mother  Carey  where  she  feeds  her 
chicks  at  sea/ 

Heh !    Walk  her  round !    Break,  ah,  break  it  out  o* 

that — 
Break  our  starboard  bower  out — apeak — awash — 

aclear ! 
Port — port  she  casts,  with  the  harbour-roil  beneath 

her  foot — 

And  that's  the  last  o'  bottom  we  shall  see  this 
year! 


426  MANY   INVENTIONS. 

Well,  ah,  fare  you  well,  for  we've  got  to  take  her 

out  again — 

Take  her  out  in  ballast,  riding  light  and  cargo- 
free. 

And  it's  time  to  clear  and  quit 
When  the  hawser  grips  the  bitt ; 
So  we'll  pay  you  with  the  foresheet  and  a  promise 
from  the  sea ! 

Heh !    Tally  on !    Aft  and  walk  away  with  her — 
Handsome  to  the  cathead  now;  oh,  tally  on  the 
fall! 

Stop,  seize,  and  fish,  and  easy  on  the  davit-guy. 
Up,  well  up  the  fluke  of  her  and  inboard  haul ! 

Well,  ah,  fare  you  well,  for  the  Channel  wind's  took 

hold  of  us, 

Choking  down  our  voices  as  we  snatch  the  gaskets 
free; 

And  it's  blowing  up  for  night, 
And  she's  dropping  Light  on  Light, 
And  she's  snorting  under  bonnets  for  a  breath  of 
open  sea ! 

Wheel,  full  and  by ;  but  she'll  smell  her  road  alone 

to-night — 
Sick  she  is,  and  harbour-sick — Oh,  sick  to  clear 

the  land ! 

Roll  down  to  Brest,  with  the  old  Red  Ensign  over  us ; 
Carry  on  and  thrash  her  out  with  all  she'll  stand ! 


ENVOY.  427 

Well,  ah,  fare  you  well ;  and  it's  Ushant  gives  the 

door  to  us, 

Whirling  like  a  windmill  on  the  dirty  scud  to  lee, 
Till  the  last,  last  nicker  goes 
From  the  tumbling  water-rows, 

And  we're  off  to  Mother  Carey. 
•  (Walk  her  down  to  Mother  Carey !) 
Oh,  we're  bound  for  Mother  Carey  where  she  feeds 
her  chicks  at  sea ! 


THE   END. 


D.  APPLETON  &  CO.'S  PUBLICATIONS. 


rHE  FAITH  DOCTOR.  By  EDWARD  EGGLESTON, 
author  of  "The  Hoosier  Schoolmaster,"  "The  Circuit  Rider," 
etc.  I2mo.  Cloth,  $1.50. 

"  One  of  the  novels  of  the  decade."  —  Rochester  Union  and  Advertiser. 

"  It  is  extremely  fortunate  that  the  fine  subject  indicated  in  the  title  should  have 
fallen  into  such  competent  hands."  —  Pittsburgh  Chronicle-Telegraph. 

"The  author  of  'The  Hoosier  Schoolmaster"  has  enhanced  his  reputation  by  this 
beautiful  and  touching  study  of  the  character  of  a  girl  to  love  whom  proved  a  liberal 
education  to  both  of  her  admirers."  —  London  Atheneeum. 

"  '  The  Faith  Doctor  '  is  worth  reading  for  its  style,  its  wit,  and  its  humor,  and  not 
less,  we  may  add,  for  its  pathos."  —  London  Spectator. 

"Much  skill  is  shown  by  the  author  in  making  these  'fads'  the  basis  of  a  novel  of 
great  interest.  .  .  .  One  who  tries  to  keep  in  the  current  of  good  novel-reading  must 
certainly  find  time  to  read  'The  Faith  Doctor.'  "  —  Buffalo  Commercial. 


A 


N  UTTER  FAIL  URE.     By  MIRIAM  COLES  HAR- 
RIS, author  of  Rutledge."     I2mo.     Cloth,  $1.25. 

"  A  story  with  an  elaborate  plot,  worked  out  with  great  cleverness  and  with  the 
skill  of  an  experienced  artist  in  fiction.  The  interest  is  strong  and  at  times  very  dra- 
matic. .  .  .  Those  who  were  attracted  by  '  Rutledge  '  will  give  hearty  welcome  to  this 
story,  and  find  it  fully  as  enjoyable  as  that  once  immensely  popular  novel." — Boston 
Saturday  Evening  Gazette. 

"In  this  new  story  the  author  has  done  some  of  the  best  work  that  she  has  ever 
given  to  the  public,  and  it  will  easily  class  among  the  most  meritorious  and  most 
original  novels  of  the  year." — Boston  Home  journal. 

"The  author  of  '  Rutledge '  does  not  often  send  out  a  new  volume,  but  when  she 
does  it  is  always  a  literary  event.  .  .  .  Her  previous  books  were  sketchy  and  slight 
when  compared  with  the  finished  and  trained  power  evidenced  in  '  An  Utter  Failure.' " 
— New  Haven  Palladium. 


A 


PURITAN  PAGAN.     By  JULIEN  GORDON,  au- 
thor of  "  A  Diplomat's  Diary,"  etc.     I2mo.     Cloth,  $1.00. 

"  Mrs.  Van  Rensselaer  Cruger  grows  stronger  as  she  writes.  .  .  .  The  lines  in  her 
story  are  boldly  and  vigorously  etched." — New  York  Times. 

"  The  author's  recent  books  have  made  for  her  a  secure  place  in  current  literature, 
where  she  can  stand  fast.  .  .  .  Her  latest  production, 'A  Puritan  Pagan,' is  an  eminent- 
ly clever  story,  in  the  best  sense  of  the  word  clever." — Philadelphia  Telegraph. 

"  It  is  obvious  that  the  author  is  thoroughly  at  home  in  illustrating  the  manner  and 
the  sentiment  of  the  best  society  of  both  America  and  Europe." — Chicago  Times. 

INLINE  VERE.     By  Louis  COUPERUS.     Translated 

•^— ^    from  the  Dutch  by  J.  T.  GREIN.      With  an  Introduction  by 

EDMUND  GOSSE.     Holland  Fiction  Series.    I2mo.  Cloth,  $i.oo.v 

"  Most  careful  in  its  details  of  description,  most  picturesque  in  its  coloring." — Boston 
Post. 

"  A  vivacious  and  skillful  performance,  giving  an  evidently  faithful  picture  of  society, 
*nd  evincing  the  art  of  a  true  story-teller." — Philadelphia  Telegraph. 

"The  de'rur&ment\s  tragical,  thrilling,  and  picturesque." — New  York  World. 

New  York :  D.  APPLETON  &  CO.,  I,  3,  &  5  Bond  Street. 


D.  APPLETON  &  CO.'S  PUBLICATIONS. 


P 


DUSK  TO  DAWN.  By  KATHARINE 
PEARSON  WOODS,  author  of  "  Metzerott,  Shoemaker."  i2mo. 
Cloth,  $1.25. 

"  Rarely,  indeed,  does  an  author  attain  to  such  wide  prominence  in  so  short  a  time 
as  did  Katharine  Pearson  Woods  on  the  appearance  of  her  somewhat  socialistic  novel 
called  '  Metzerott,  Shoemaker.'  That  story,  however,  with  all  its  absorbing  power, 
gave  only  the  faintest  evidence  of  the  real  strength  that  has  hitherto  remained  latent, 
but  which  is  now  so  wonderfully  developed  in  her  latest  story,  '  From  Dusk  to  Dawn.' " 
—Baltimore  A  merican. 

"The  author  has  not  only  successfully  interwoven  discussion  upon  religion  and  the 
occult  sciences,  but  she  has  handled  them  throughout  in  a  masterly  manner,  predicating 
her  entire  familiarity  with  them." — Boston  Commercial  Bulletin. 

"  If  a  novel  may  be  called  orthodox,  this  book  is  entitled  to  come  under  that 
classification." — San  Francisco  Call. 

"The  whole  treatment  is  stimulative  of  thought  in  comparatively  new  channels." 
— New  York  Commercial  Advertiser 

CAPTN  DAVY'S  HONEYMOON.  A  Manx 
Yarn.  By  HALL  CAINE,  author  of  "  The  Deemster,"  "  The 
Scape-Goat,"  etc.  I2mo.  Cloth,  $1.00. 

"  A  new  departure  by  this  author.  Unlike  his  previous  works,  this  little  tale  is  al- 
most wholly  humorous,  with,  however,  a  current  of  pathos  underneath.  It  is  not  always 
that  an  author  can  succeed  equally  well  in  tragedy  and  in  comedy,  but  it  looks  as 
though  Mr.  Hall  Caine  would  be  one  of  the  exceptions." — London  Literary  World. 

"Constructed  with  great  ingenuity.  The  story  is  full  of  delight." — Boston  Adver- 
tiser. 

"A  rollicking  story  of  Manx  life,  well  told.  .  .  .  Mr.  Caine  has  really  written  no 
book  superior  in  character-drawing  and  dramatic  force  to  this  little  comedy." — Boston 
Beacon. 

"It  is  pleasant  to  meet  the  author  of  'The  Deemster'  in  a  brightly  humorous  little 
story  like  this.  ...  It  shows  the  same  observation  of  Manx  character  and  much  of 
the  same  artistic  skill." — Philadelphia  Times. 

JTfOOTSTEPS    OF  FATE.      By  Louis  COUPERUS, 
-*        author  of  "  Eline  Vere."     Translated  from  the  Dutch  by  Clara 
Bell.     With  an  Introduction  by  Edmund  Gosse.     Holland  Fic- 
tion Series.     I2mo.     Cloth,  $1.00. 

"  It  is  a  very  remarkable  book,  and  can  not  fail  to  make  a  profound  impression  by 
its  strength  and  originality.  ...  Its  interest  is  intense,  and  the  tragedy  with  which  it 
closes  is  depicted  with  remarkable  grace  and  passion." — Boston  Saturday  Evening 
Gazette. 

"  The  dramatic  development  up  to  a  tragical  climax  is  in  the  manner  of  a  true 
artist." — Philadelphia  Bulletin. 

"  A  remarkable  study  of  the  theory  of  fatalism  and  its  effect  upon  the  human  mind, 
of  the  sophistical  reasoning  to  which  it  leads,  and  of  the  absolute  indifference  to  the 
fate  of  others  which  it  succeeds  in  establishing.  If  the  work  of  the  Dutch  Sensitivists, 
as  Edmund  Gosse  calls  them  in  his  preface,  is  maintained  on  such  a  level  as  this,  their 
translation  into  English  is  a  distinct  gain." — The  Critic. 

"  Almost  throughout  reveals  a  careful,  restrained  sobriety  of  manner,  and  an  ex- 
ceeding clearness  of  touch." — London  Athenaum. 

New  York :  D.  APPLETON  &  CO.,  i,  3,  &  5  Bond  Street. 


D.  APPLETON  &  CO.'S  PUBLICATIONS. 

A  NEW  BOOK  BY  THE  AUTHOR  OF  "A  SOCIAL  DEPARTURE"  AND 
"AN  AMERICAN  GIRL  IN  LONDON." 

•T^HE  SIMPLE  ADVENTURES  OF  A  MEMSA- 
•1       HIB.    By  SARA  JEANNETTE  DUNCAN.    With  37  Illustrations 

by  F.  H.  TOWNSEND.    I2mo.     Cloth,  $1.50. 

The  fresh,  spontaneous  humor  which  made  "A  Social  Departure"  so 
brilliant  a  success  is  here  seen  at  its  best.  A  new  chapter  of  domestic  life  is 
opened,  and  the  changes  of  scene  and  character  impart  a  constant  animation 
to  this  delightful  record  of  a  memsahib 's  adventures.  Mr.  F.  H.  Townsend, 
the  picturesque  illustrator  of  "  A  Social  Departure"  and  "  An  American  Girl 
in  London,"  has  accompanied  the  memsahib  with  a  number  of  brilliant 
illustrations. 

A  SOCIAL  DEPARTURE:  How  Orthodocia  and  I 
•**•      Went  Round  the  World  by  Ourselves.     By   SARA  JEANNETTE 
DUNCAN.     With  in  Illustrations  by  F.  H.  TOWNSEND.     I2mo. 
Paper,  75  cents  ;  cloth,  $1.75. 

"  Widely  read  and  praised  on  both  sides  of  the  Atlantic  and  Pacific,  with  scores  of 
illustrations  which  fit  the  text  exactly  and  show  the  mind  of  artist  and  writer  in  unison." 
— New  York  livening  Post. 

"  It  is  to  be  doubted  whether  another  book  can  be  found  so  thoroughly  amusing 
from  beginning  to  end." — Boston  Daily  Advertiser. 

"  For  sparkling  wit,  irresistibly  contagious  fun,  keen  observation,  absolutely  poetic 
appreciation  of  natural  beauty,  and  vivid  descriptiveness,  it  has  no  recent  rival  " — Mrs. 
P.  T.  BARNUM'S  Letter  to  the  New  York  Tribune. 

"  A  brighter,  merrier,  more  entirely  charming  book  would  be,  indeed,  difficult  to 
find."— St.  Louis  Republic. 

N  AMERICAN  GIRL  IN  LONDON.  By  SARA 
JEANNETTE  DUNCAN.  With  80  Illustrations  by  F.  H.  TOWN- 
SEND.  I2mo.  Paper,  75  cents  ;  cloth,  $1.50. 

"  One  of  the  most  nai've  and  entertaining  books  of  the  season."— New  York  Ob- 
server. 

"The  raciness  and  breeziness  which  made  'A  Social  Departure,'  by  the  same 
author,  last  season,  the  best-read  and  most-talkcd-of  book  of  travel  for  many  a  year, 
permeate  the  new  book,  and  appear  between  the  lines  of  every  page." — Brooklyn 
Standard-Union. 

"  So  sprightly  a  book  as  this,  on  life  in  London  as  observed  by  an  American,  has 
never  before  been  written." — Philadelphia  Bulletin. 

"Overrunning  with  cleverness  and  good-will." — New  York  Commercial  Adver- 
tiser. 

"  We  shall  not  interfere  with  the  reader's  privilege  to  find  out  for  herself  what,  after 
her  presentation  at  court  and  narrow  escape  from  Cupid's  meshes  in  England,  becomes 
of  the  American  girl  who  is  the  gay  theme  of  the  book.  Sure  we  are  that  no  one  who 
takes  up  the  volume— which,  by  the  way,  is  cunningly  illustrated— will  lay  it  down 
until  his  or  her  mind  is  at  rest  on  this  point." — Toronto  Mail. 

New  York:   D.  APPLETON  &  CO.,  I,  3,  &  5  Bond  Street. 


A 


CENTRAL  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARY 

University  of  California,  San  Diego 

DATE  DUE 


JUN  1  4  1986 

JUN  1  2  198b 

a  39 

UCSD  Libr. 

